Let them eat cake or A favour for a friend
by YourswithLove
Summary: Deciding a change in subject would be for the best, a blushing Rachel volunteered, "Okay, I'll do it. Since you asked so nicely." "I enjoyed the way you said that like you had a choice," Santana said, rolling her eyes. Rachel is manipulated into doing a favor for Santana, which essentially changes her life thanks to one, Finn Hudson.
1. Chapter 1

**Let them eat cake **_**or **_**A favour for a friend.**

**i**

"No, absolutely not," Rachel attempted to sound decisive and stalwart, as she turned her back on her roommate, Santana, to continue icing her perfectly prepared chocolate and peanut butter cupcakes.

Getting back to the task at hand not only helped Rachel seem resolute but also allowed her to ignore a pale looking Brittany, who was curled up in her 'My Little Pony' sleeping bag on a chair, hunched around a bucket presumably there for her to throw up in.

"You won't do it, even for Brittany?" Santana cajoled and then changed tack and became defensive, "This is all your fault."

Rachel scowled but continued with her task, forcing herself not to turn around to avoid feeling sympathy for the prone Brittany, despite desperately needing to throw Santana an exasperated frown. Her steadfast manner didn't matter anyway; the image of a sickly Brittany was pasted firmly inside her brain, along with the sounds of her dry heaving into that hot pink bucket, which was actually supposed to be used for disinfecting the floors after they'd finished the prep catering. Rachel mentally added a new bucket onto the shopping list she kept in her head while cursing Santana's skill as an effective lawyer. She'd easily utilised her keen sense of observation of body language to manipulate Rachel's feelings of guilt and obligation and exploit them when needed. Like right now.

The annoying thing was Santana's accusation was right. Rachel blamed herself for Brittany being sick – she was the one who had naively given the relationship advice suggesting Santana be less possessive and back off a bit, never imagining that Brittany's newfound sense of freedom would lead her to becoming a star attraction in an impromptu kissing booth to raise funds to purchase a refrigerated van. Brittany actually raised a huge amount of money, enough for a down payment on a decent van, but also ended up contracting and spreading mono germs all through the lower West side. Her exploits would have been laughable except infectious diseases were disgusting and had resulted in Rachel being coerced into this unsolicited promotion.

Brittany had been the 'brains' behind Pierce's Parties. She had fancifully described to Santana, on their third date, about how becoming a catering chef was her 'dream' and Santana, being completely infatuated with her had loaned her the start-up capital, money she had inherited when her Abuela died. Unfortunately, Brittany conjured new dreams every few weeks and her interest in the business waxed and waned. Rachel had immediately regretted introducing them because Santana's pride wouldn't allow the business to flat line and she had been forced to commandeer the business, while maintaining her scholarship at NYU. Santana acted as the General Manger, while maintaining her scholarship at NYU, implementing her negotiation skills to semi hire a commercial kitchen in exchange for giving the owner's daughter, Sugar, a waitressing job. Rachel's run as a chorus member in Oklahoma had ended and she continued to audition, agreeing to work in the mean time, as a waitress, amateur accountant and enthusiastic baker to ease her guilty conscience at potentially bankrupting Santana. It had been hard work but ultimately 'Pierces' Parties' was starting to attract attention and anything but the full party experience for their next high profile gig would seriously damage the reputation of the fledging company. So, Rachel was essentially the ingredient for success, since Brittany was indisposed, or that was what Santana was proposing.

"Why can't you do it?" Rachel asked, annoyed with herself for continuing the conversation. Her 'no' needed to be much more convincing.

"I'm a man hating lesbian," Santana retorted in indignation. "No way is a spoiled, preppy jerk leering at me in my stocking and suspenders. If the birthday boy touches me you know I will reflexively start swinging. Sure, I sing way better than you, but me wishing someone a happy birthday? He'd know I was lying straight up."

Rachel thought her whole man-hating act was over exaggerated. Santana had slept with more men than Rachel had. But it was true that she had a bad attitude. And she hated being touched by strangers. When Santana first moved to New York she used some karate elbow move to break some unassuming guy's nose for following her too closely on an escalator.

"Why can't Quinn do it then?" she asked. Rachel couldn't believe she was trying to help find a solution to their missing lingerie wearing- serve cake to the guest of honour- sing happy birthday girl, instead of cutting the dialogue off and refusing outright.

Quinn, another employee, had no qualms about telling Rachel that her waitressing job with 'Pierces' Parties' allowed her to mingle with men. She intended to meet someone rich and become a Mrs. as soon as possible. Quinn expressed an intense desire to attend charity auctions and buy Louis Vuitton bags, holiday in the Hamptons and live in a Manhattan Penthouse, which would feature in Vogue Living. She'd anticipated meeting this man either while waitressing or through her part time high end real estate job. Usually this would have annoyed Rachel no end, but Quinn had been her best friend since elementary school and she'd figured that her marry-for-money attitude had something to do with her womanising jerk of a dad, or so she concluded after taking a Psych 101 class. Attaining her rich husband was more than likely given that Quinn was definitely above average in the looks department, had a college degree in Art History and made her own money, not to mention that Santana's marketing strategy had managed to keep the business on the right side of classy, while being a tiny bit risqué, appealing to the upper rungs of society.

Santana sneered loudly. "She made me create an individual employment contract with the stipulation that she never had to be the cake girl, no matter the circumstances. She says that her past would be dredged up when she eventually becomes the First Lady. And anyway, her voice is weak and unlistenable. Before you suggest it, Sugar can't carry a tune in a bucket and Mike would go postal if Tina volunteered."

Rachel's reservations weren't because she was shy. Although she'd only been part of a chorus with Brittany, her ultimate career goal was to be on Broadway and there were plenty of starring roles requiring skimpy costumes or even partial nudity. Rachel had overcome all of the potential embarrassment thanks to a nasty lecturer at college. Miss July's criticism of Rachel's demeanour had cut her deeply but she was determined to be a star. Thanks to Santana, who had pushed Rachel to go out to clubs and bars she'd learned the art of flirtation and sex appeal. Santana had replaced her sensible underwear, taught her tricks with eyeliner and held her hand through her first Brazilian wax. Admittedly, Rachel had left it on the stage and not pursued the whole 'being sexy' act to nab a boyfriend in her real life, but she could definitely pull off the role.

She just didn't know if she could pull off the role the same way that Brittany usually did. Realistically, she probably was the best man (woman) for the job. She was the tiniest and there would be no concerns about her squishing anyone, unlike the job last week where the birthday boy had been in a wheelchair and the weight of Brittany's boobs alone almost flattened him. It hadn't stopped him from pulling her closer and burying his face in her cleavage however. And despite Santana's bluster Rachel was a trained singer and it would technically be a performance, even if the only song she was being paid to sing was 'Happy Birthday'.

Rachel cringed and knew this should be the least of her concerns about the specific job. "What if the guy is disappointed and wants his money back?"

"For fucks sake, Rachel!" Santana groaned, "All you have to do is sing some dick '_Happy Birthda_y" in some cutesy underwear. I'm not asking you to strip naked and screw him on the coffee table in front of his friends. I don't even get why we are having this conversation."

"I know." Rachel was suitably admonished.

"And if he is disappointed," Santana leaned against a counter, her elbows resting behind, eyes glittering with amusement, "I'd be the first to welcome you into the girls' only club. I can just imagine your pretty pink lips glistening, while your perfectly shaped nose nudges my..."

"Santana!" Rachel had moved onto spacing mini lemon curd cheesecakes with passionfruit glaze on expensive silver serving trays but froze in embarrassment. "I'm flattered but we are friends. We live in an apartment with curtains for doors so I get enough information both visually and aurally. I don't need your baldy innuendo."

"You aren't in any position to turn me down, Rach," Santana grinned lasciviously, "It would be the first time you have seen action in months. Probably the first time you come with someone else in the room. We all know plastic man Brody wouldn't have ever got that shit worked out."

Rachel may have been a tiny bit more liberated than in high school but she most definitely was interested in men. She didn't share too much information about her romantic entanglements, especially since Santana's assumptions were correct – she'd never even gotten that far with Brody (who was only using her as a substitute to make Cassie – her malevolent dance teacher – jealous) and the three times she had slept with Jesse, her long term (as it turned out, also gay) high school boyfriend, had proved quite disastrous, where an actual orgasm was proven as elusive as instantaneous Broadway success.

Deciding a change in subject would be for the best, a blushing Rachel volunteered, "Okay, I'll do it. Since you asked so nicely."

"I enjoyed the way you said that like you had a choice," Santana said, rolling her eyes.

"But you have to promise not to tell Quinn. And any criticisms of my performance that directly relates to my appearance will be kept from me."

Santana shook her head in amazement at Rachel's provisos. She understood why Rachel held Quinn's opinion in such high esteem since they'd been friends forever. But they weren't comparable – sure Quinn was beautiful, but also bland and boring. Santana knew for a fact that Quinn had gotten a nose job and that waitressing was to help her save for 'breast augmentation' surgery, because when Rachel had introduced them on a night out, Quinn drunkenly copped to needing extra money to 'better' herself. Santana shrewdly manipulated this information to offer Quinn a second job because most guys seemed to think with their dicks, and her initial beauty was captivating – the lacklustre aspects of her personality showed up about a half an hour after one of their parties finished – when she refused to help clean or to work overtime.

As Rachel worked doubly hard trying to finish the catering prep she really hoped that she would eventually get the nerve up to tell Santana "no". Waitressing had paid the bills but after being offered the not-too-far- off-Broadway understudy part of Fanny Brice, with a guaranteed lead while the star was on her honeymoon, Rachel would have to devote much of her time to the play. She figured she could keep baking the desserts and persuade Tina to use her feminine wiles to convince Mike to take over the accounts.

Reassuring herself mentally, whilst attempting to think positively, Rachel thought the confidence boost from this ordeal would be an excellent lead-in to her rehearsals for Fanny. Now, all she could hope was that the guest of honour birthday guy wasn't some lecherous jerk who'd use the opportunity to feel her up like the fuckers on the subway.

**ii**

Finn knew the importance of turning 21 and celebrating appropriately. Unfortunately that was two years ago and Puck hijacked that party, getting the both of them completely wasted, embarrassingly tattooed and incarcerated. He could still picture Kurt bailing them out, wearing his 'ironic' trapper hat, eying Puck murderously and muttering self-righteously, "'Beer before liquor, never sicker'. It's not that hard Finn, its rhymes for goodness sake!"

His brother, who could have been the poster boy for holding grudges, had then proceeded to write up an itemised bill that included bail money, taxi cab fare, 'polite conversation with the cab driver' and timing inconvenience fee. Finn still refused to pay the account as Kurt's polite conversation caveat had actually led him to a blind date with the cab drivers son, Adam, which blossomed into a six month long, amicably ending relationship.

So, since Finn could barely remember his 21st, Puck had taken it upon himself, as his best friend, to do it all again two years later. Except this time he'd promised to make it 'classier'. And he'd offered to pay for everything since he was now 'solvent', inferring humbly to the fact that his Californian based pool cleaning business, which had developed into a home maintenance organisation with franchise opportunities, had been turning a huge profit.

Finn was incredibly proud of Puck's success and even though he was wary of birthday celebrations, with their homes being on opposites sides of the country he hadn't seen Puck for ages and was looking forward to the opportunity to let loose a bit. He'd been working his ass off giving private guitar and drum lessons in the evenings, while during the school hours he was exhaustively trying to establish a fun, friendly, non-judgmental environment for his trauma suffering middle schoolers to trust him enough to sing in front of each other.

Puck had flown in from Los Angeles last weekend, but Finn had travelled to Chicago for a music and education conference part of this week and then had parent conferences every night until late. While he was busy being an adult Finn had also missed Artie's birthday and some fashion thing for Kurt but Puck rarely came into town, so Finn was meeting him at his new apartment uptown a few hours before the 'real' party started. He wanted to spend a bit of time with him and check out his place before all of his other friends arrived.

And he was desperate to find out what his latest text message from Puck had meant. Because for some reason three years ago when they both swayed drunkenly in the neon lit tattoo parlour, Finn had chosen a little, beautifully coloured songbird to be situated on his left shoulder blade. He wasn't sure whether he'd been referencing Fleetwood Mac, because although he actually liked the band and used them in class sometimes, he didn't think the song had much direct meaning in his life. All he remembered from the whole incident was slurring to Puck, over and over, "I'm gonna find me a little songbird."

It mostly stayed forgotten because Finn didn't often have occasion to look at his shoulder but it was intermittently trotted out for laughs at his expense, which mostly happened at family gatherings. Because he was embarrassed about it or maybe because it was so random he'd buried it on purpose, repressing it into his subconscious. Although the few instances when Finn had found a girl willing to put aside the fact that he really was too busy for a relationship and accept a meaningless night of sex it really impressed them to say that it was because of his love of nature. Apparently girls loved nature. But Puck had brought it to the forefront of his mind because he'd messaged him on Wednesday.

_Hey Finn, can't wait until u see what i got u. i found you your songbird!_

What the fuck did that mean?

**iii**

"You'll never guess what I found out," Quinn sing-songed, as she watched Rachel push the catering trolleys into the private elevator. Quinn skipped alongside her, slipping inside just as the doors slid shut.

"What?" Rachel replied, cursing the slow closing doors.

"The birthday guy tonight? Finn Hudson. His step-dad is a senator!"

"What exactly does that mean?" Rachel folded her arms, closed her eyes and leaned back against the cool steel of the elevator.

"Political ambition runs in families, Rachel. This guy could potentially be preparing for a career in Washington, and everyone knows a man with a beautiful family is admired by the constituents. And don't tell Santana, but I looked through the paperwork for tonight and his name isn't even on the billing details!"

"You've lost me," Rachel rubbed her temples. She always liked to go through her list of things to do before starting work and was frustrated with Quinn's lack of attention to the upcoming job, not to mention the fact that she thought it was okay to rifle through private information.

"Well, it means that he is cautious. It isn't advisable for those related to politicians to demonstrate amoral behaviour, so he has created an untraceable money trail in case the Senator's family's financials are made public."

Rachel scoffed and jokingly replied, "Maybe his friends' billing details are listed because he is the one paying. Maybe they're _those _kinds of friends."

"Highly unlikely," Quinn was annoyed with Rachel's scepticism now and shook her head. "No straight man would pay for this type of party. You need to think logically. You're usually so much smarter than this."

The private elevator opened into the apartment and Quinn sauntered inside, ready to impress, leaving Rachel to organise the catering trolleys. She decided to avoid Quinn and dodge her husband quest for the evening.

Colossal doubts about the party performance had begun to surface the second they were granted entry into the very upscale apartment building, they'd started gnawing at her insides while conversing with Quinn in the elevator and as she surveyed the Penthouse suite, they started clawing up her throat. It couldn't be more different from the multi-coloured artistically inspired open space loft that Rachel shared with Santana, Tina and Mike. Everything about this space declared it a bachelor pad, from the dark wall paint, leather furniture to the racy artwork and stripper pole in the main bedroom she'd accidently caught sight of when she used the bathroom.

Rachel didn't hold out much hope for Quinn and the Senator's step-son if he thought this was impressive interior decoration. She had very discerning taste and it leaned more towards pastels, pearls and cardigans. While Quinn wasn't overly impressed with the colour scheme, she spent an inordinate time studying the black and white nudes. Rachel, still bothered by their exchange in the lift, bitterly attributed Quinn's interest in the photography to having an excuse to avoid lifting a well manicured finger to do her job. Brittany, who had made a remarkable recovery but didn't feel well enough to reclaim her lingerie girl job stood with Sugar and Quinn, examining the photography as if they were at a gallery. Rachel wondered if she should ask if them if them would like a glass of champagne or some cheese and crackers while they viewed the artwork because Quinn had dragged her to many exhibitions where that was the routine. She could hear them discussing 'elements' and 'themes' and generally avoiding work.

"He has incredible taste. These curved lines, the light and dark and the shapes made by the shadowing are fabulous," Quinn enthused.

"But it's nudes. So passé," commented Sugar. She was given a glowering glare from Quinn, who didn't appreciate the challenge.

"Although some post modernists or contemporary artists believe the nude is outdated, one can always be inspired by the human body. And she is clearly lovely. Maybe there was some personal relationship here, since there is an atmosphere of intimacy created by his clearly admiring viewpoint.

"Or maybe he is just a giant perve," Santana laughed, unpacking crockery and glasses on serving tables.

Her quip caused Rachel's throat to close up. The scratch and pinch of the crisp lace underwear that she had bought for the job reminded her of what was awaiting her later tonight and wouldn't let her blank it out for even a minute. She'd tried deep breathing and visualisation, where she saw herself onstage receiving a standing ovation, except every time it was imagined she was always in her underwear and would start to hyperventilate and the problem was worse than before. Deciding she needed to be separated from all people, Rachel escaped to the kitchen to swap duties with Brittany and finish garnishing the appetisers and decorating the desserts. Just as her stress level had become manageable, there was a riotous noise in the living area that was distinctly male. Rachel wanted to faint, but telling herself to be a grown up, which she definitely was if her scanty underwear had anything to say in the matter, she just got on with the job. The quicker she worked, the quicker she would be done. Losing herself in her processes, she blocked out all noise and distractions and repeated the mantra the relaxation tape had recommended.

_Every risky experience has the potential to change your life. Every risky experience has the potential to change your life. _

Ever the dramatist, Rachel just hoped it changed for the better and didn't end up being a potential disaster that scarred her forever.

**A/N** This is the first time I've written a multi-chapter story. The lack of Finn / Rachel interaction ends here.


	2. Chapter 2

**i**

"It's freakin' amazing. It's insane!" was Finn's enthused response to Puck's question, "You like, right?", used in sweeping reference to his new apartment. Puck already had a house in LA, which was similar to this one in 'theme' so the ostentatious nature of the place wasn't a huge shock to Finn. He knew that saying, "Do you realise that everyone who enters this place will think you're trying to channel Hugh Hefner?" would either be interpreted as rude, or garner an admiring reaction from Puck along the lines of, "I know. What an accomplished dude." It was much preferable to dodge Puck's question or use adjectives that gave a blanket impression, seemingly in a positive fashion, which was actually something he'd learned as a teacher. He'd had plenty of practise with Kurt.

Anyway, Finn much preferred his one bedroom walk-up in Brooklyn, despite the fact that his Mom had used his own complimenting technique on him to describe it as quaint and cosy, instead of small and crowded. Despite having no stripper poles or mirrors above bed, Finn loved his home because for his last birthday instead of buying him one expensive item he would hate, Kurt had redesigned the space using items from flea markets and bazaars he collected that reflected Finn's personality perfectly, completely surpassing restitution for forcing Finn to share a Turkish inspired bordello room when they were teenagers. Finn also liked how he'd arranged an informal deal of 'no blame', that said if the tenants below wouldn't report him for noise complaints while playing the drums, he'd say nothing about how at times multiple (meaning around twenty) people shared the downstairs apartment causing consistent but unexpected power outages.

What was unexpected about Puck's apartment though were the girls inside. Actually, considering that so far while walking from the subway station to his home the only topics they'd managed to cover was 'girls we've slept with since we last saw each other' and 'famous girls Puck would like to bang', maybe the girls weren't so unexpected. But these girls, dressed in pristine pastel pink blouses and black pencil skirts were setting up for the party, with damask linen table cloths and sparkling champagne glasses, not recovering from an orgy. Finn could thank Kurt for having such a comprehensive knowledge of women's clothing and fabrics – sometimes it paid to know about this stuff.

"Beautiful food served by beautiful girls," Puck winked at Finn and leered at the ladies and Finn was glad that some things never changed.

Expectations exceeded about the possible quality of the party, including the food, sent Finn's stomach into rumbling mode and after meeting (and subsequently, being insulted) by Santana, Sugar, Tina, Quinn and Brittany, he was dispatched into the kitchen, accompanied by Puck to scrounge up some food before the other guests arrived.

**ii**

Rachel, working in the kitchen adorning cupcakes with candy, had tried to block out all noise and was succeeding quite well until her friends, the other waitresses, started introducing themselves to the guys, who'd just came barrelling into the apartment at high volume. It took all her willpower to continue with her prep and not sneak a peek. Gritting her teeth when she heard Quinn, fawningly say, "This is going to be a fantastic night. Truly, a birthday to remember", because she always took the credit when playing such a minor part, and instinctively Rachel knew her comments were all part of her husband snagging strategy, not to bolster the business.

The two guys she'd been trying hard to ignore pushed through the kitchen doors and shocked Rachel with their sudden entrance. She took in their appearances silently judging. One of them had the most ridiculous haircut she'd ever seen, and the other was the most perfect specimen in the 'my ideal man' contest that Rachel held in her head occasionally. Scrunching her eyes shut, she re-opened them thinking that she was either offering a glorified lap-dance to a senator's son, who thought it was impressive to display naked women as art (she hadn't yet decided whether that was acceptable) and lived in the most garish apartment ever but was also so physically perfect she wanted to lick him or a guy who was only tolerable to look at but thought it was satisfactory to swan around as if he had a dead animal perched on his head. She honestly didn't know which was worse.

"Hey, your boss out there said you were the one to see about getting something to eat."

Finn would have been perfectly fine staring at the speechless girl all day, since she was so beautiful, but he was almost at his fainting point of being hungry. The other girls had been really pretty too, in fact, Finn didn't think he'd ever met a group of girls so attractive, but this one was, like, the epitome of everything Finn had ever admired in a woman including shiny hair and chocolate brown eyes. Not wanting to seem sexist, he didn't want to say it was the apron she was wearing that elevated her over the other girls, but since Finn was such a shitty cook, having a girlfriend with that skill could greatly improve his life and his financials. He thought about it for a second and it seemed that the main attraction of the apron was the impeccably tied bow that sat, just above the curve of the women's fantastic ass. Finn was definitely an ass man.

Rachel regained her senses, thinking that his comment didn't sound like Santana and replied dubiously, "She said it like that?"

"Actually, no," Finn reddened; not wanting to tell this lovely human oasis that Santana was quite abrupt. "She called me _Marshmallow Man_ and hoped that in my possessed state I wouldn't devour the entire kitchen, even if it was my birthday. I think she was referring to events seen in _Ghostbusters_, but I'm not sure."

"That sounds more like it. When she knows you better she'll tell you she's invoking _Dear Abby_ and that criticism is caring." Rachel's disloyal insides jumped with joy, when she realised she'd be grinding her ass in the flawless one's lap, since it turned out to be his birthday celebration, except then she remembered how tawdry his home was and how she is absolutely no way compared to the women in those nude photos.

"I can't wait." Finn said sarcastically. He already had way too many people in his life that had expressed this attitude.

Puck, bored by someone else's basic needs, tossed Finn a shamefaced look and slunk back into the living room. Finn knew his friend would definitely prioritise impressing women over helping feed his best friend, at least in the short term. Plus Puck would never give up an opportunity to monopolise a group of women while Finn was detained by his empty stomach.

"What would you like to eat? Unless you want something that was already in the fridge, which is pretty empty actually," said Rachel. Then she thought how dumb that was. He'd know what was in his own fridge.

"What are you holding?" he indicated with a tip of his head.

"Chocolate peanut butter cupcake," Rachel replied.

Literally, Finn's favourite combination of food initiated a craving that dilated his pupils and triggered a desperate sounding double entendre.

"I want that."

Finn locked eyes with Rachel and felt something alive pass between them that bloomed with his straightforward, suggestive words. Rachel held out the treat in her hand but didn't approach him. He silently moved forward as was required to reach the cupcake, but stood as far away as possible, as though they were both attempting to avoid an invisible energy. Finn watched his fingertips brush across Rachel's as he took possession of the rich dessert, and enjoyed how she shuddered with fusion at his touch. Experiencing tendrils of arousal unfurling inside her, which were entirely absent with Jesse and were faked with Brody, Rachel jerked her hand back, shocked at being rendered tremulous by a veritable stranger. Finn might have seemed less affected but he sensed she knew that wasn't the case, and almost wanted to divulge that he was just as stunned by their connection.

"Thank you," he said politely, and got the hell out of that kitchen.

Rachel forgot about the stress she was feeling and began to frisson with anticipation at the possibility of the evening.

**iii**

"Would you quit making those orgasm noises while you eat, man? It's totally disconcerting," Puck complained, handing Finn a beer. They reclined on Puck's leather couch and were using whatever was on ESPN as background noise.

"You don't get it. This is literally the best thing I've ever had in my mouth," Finn replied animatedly.

"And that's why you've only slept with three women since I've been away, Finn. When that kitchen girl asked you what you wanted to eat, you should have said, 'Baby, I'd love a taste of that pretty, pink pussy,' and her panties would've dropped at your feet. Then you would have had something much better in your mouth than a fucking cupcake."

Puck shook his head disappointedly, as if Finn's lack of game was personally offensive.

"That actually works for you," Finn raised his eyebrow, disbelievingly.

"For me, yes," Puck said confidently, "You, probably not. But don't be discouraged because I've lined up something where even you will be able to say that you had a bit of female action on your birthday. I found you your songbird!"

Puck dragged out his iPhone and loaded up a video for Finn. Artie, a mutual friend appeared on the tiny screen waving manically and then Finn watched in horror as Brittany, one of the girls folding swan napkins about three feet away, started singing happy birthday on the video, holding a cupcake, exactly like the one Finn was holding, and demurely sat on Artie's lap in her underwear, grinding against him. Using his wheelchair as an amusement ride, her bombastic boobs bounced in Artie's face and he beamed brilliantly at his vista. Everyone cheered, as Brittany, who was only an average singer, finished _Happy Birthda_y, then scooped up some chocolate icing and presented it to Artie, who sucked it off with vigour. Much to Finn's relief, the video cut off there.

"That's going to happen to me later," Finn asked, dismayed.

"Oh, yeah," Puck smirked.

The greatest difference between Finn on his last birthday and this one was that he made his own and better decisions now. Having a stressful job like his, he had to put his foot down with students' overbearing parents, Sue, his aggressive principal who was always trying to cut corners and even his step-dad, who really wanted him to take a pretentious job at a prestigious day school. Maybe, Finn would think about a career move later, but he for now he wanted to use his life experiences to help, and not just teach. And he liked making his own decisions.

"I really don't want that to happen. I don't want that girl on my lap, especially undressed. I've invited Mercedes and Emma from work, and Marley's coming with Jake and it'd be completely weird," Finn exclaimed.

"But these are caterers from Artie's birthday party. She's not like a stripper. She's just a sexy girl, who sings you _Happy Birthday_, while sitting on your lap. Artie had the time of his life and gave me the idea."

"And that's completely fine for Artie but it's not something I want to happen to me," Finn affirmed.

"Geez, Finn, Artie is going to be majorly pissed. He is completely in love with that girl and was desperate to see her dressed down again. But I get it, you see lingerie and hyperventilate. How about she just sings _Happy Birthday_ and brings you the cake to blow out the candle. Is that a tame enough compromise?" Puck mocked rhetorically and stalked off to make the required arrangements.

Finn felt incredibly culpable, as if his objection was going to ruin his whole birthday party. He was confident that Artie wouldn't actually want to see the object of his desire all doting on Finn because in that short video clip it appeared that Artie and Brittany had a genuine rapport that didn't and wouldn't exist between Brittany and Finn because he wasn't attracted her. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy a naked woman – it's just that he hoped her disrobing was based on some kind of attraction to him and not because she was getting paid. Hoping that Puck forgave him for standing up for himself but still feeling incredibly indictable, Finn went to shower and get ready for the party.

**iv**

"Hey, Rach," reported Santana, entering into the kitchen and hauling herself onto on an unoccupied bench, "It appears _Marshmallow Man_ and Mr. Mohawk have had a tete-a-tete and disagree about the elements of a successful party. Weirdly enough and, let me tell you, Mr. Mohawk is extremely disgusted with him, _Marshmallow man_ isn't too keen on the whole sexy stripper singer stereotype and just wants the song, the cake and the candle."

"What?" Rachel was startled.

"I know, right," Santana gossiped enthusiastically, "Here's this guy, who obviously doesn't mind his friends being aware that he is a total pervert. They look quite normal but how can you know, right? I saw freaking mirrors above the bed. What the hell is that about? He is evidently some kind of creepy voyeur but he can't have a woman in his lap, singing _Happy Birthday? _Do you think he is some fetishist psychopath and his stupid haired friend is his sidekick, like Sherlock and Watson?"

"Santana, for starters, apparently Finn Hudson is a senator's son, so if he is a psychopath and this is a mass culling of waitresses then at least our deaths will be investigated thoroughly," rationalized Rachel, "and I don't know how many times I've explained this but Sherlock and Watson are actually the good guys; they solve the crime. They aren't misogynist homoerotic serial killers."

"Really?" Santana demanded.

"Yes, really," replied an amused Rachel.

Santana, seemingly annoyed with Rachel's facts, flung her an aggravated glare and flounced out of the room calling out, "They're ready now. We can start serving as soon as possible."

Experiencing a multitude of emotions over the past week and even the past couple of hours, had left Rachel wrung out. She wasn't sure whether she was upset that Finn had vetoed her performance or glad that she wouldn't have to put herself out there. Internal debates tended to rule her life and this one was as contentious as ever. It's not like Rachel could have protested – she'd always been Brittany's understudy in this job, and she never even wanted the role. But now her lovely new underwear would have to be put aside, returned to lie between the tissue paper until she found someone actually worthy of appreciating them, which would be a rare occurrence, given Rachel's high expectations.

Sighing, Rachel grabbed a tray and went out to start the party.

**v.**

Watching the cold apartment transform into a warm, inviting space, thanks to the aroma of delicious food, an eclectic but awesome range of music, laughter and a general sense of well-being that could only be attributed to Finn's friends having a recognisable respect and appreciation of him, was remarkable to Rachel. Many of the guests here had been present at Artie's testosterone filled party last week but referrals and repeats were common in their business and showed that the food and service was good enough for a return visit. Rachel couldn't help wonder where Finn was last week, but enjoyed watching him become glassy eyed and tipsy as he his friends always made sure he had a drink in his hand.

Watching Finn meant Rachel could avert her eyes from Brittany, who had taken up permanent residence in Artie's lap. Usually it was part of the job to appear flirty but their continued courting made Rachel's heart hurt. Not only was there more work for everyone else but the tangible distress in Santana's eyes made Rachel want to hold her in a hug forever, but she knew Santana would remain stoic and indifferent.

Catching her eye, in the kitchen where they went to get more food, Rachel smiled empathetically.

"Don't, Rachel," Santana said tonelessly, "We have never agreed to exclusivity and I have always been aware that Brittany is bisexual. That boy is exactly her type; she'd always get horny in the law library, I just didn't realise nerds were the reason why, and I never thought we'd ever see _him _again. But I am fine."

Rachel didn't believe her and Santana remained uncharacteristically quiet, as the party got noisier. As she circled the room, she'd always be drawn back to Finn, probably because when she'd first served him, he taken the last canapé off her tray and said, "When you get more can you come straight back?"

Rachel smiled and replied, "The next girl out will have the same thing. You should flag her down."

"But yours taste so much better," he'd drawled, releasing butterflies fluttering in her abdomen. The Mohawk shot Finn a look and mouthed "So lame."

They didn't engage in conversation, almost like words would ruin the bond between them but their silence also prevented any development to the relationship and as their service began to wind down, Rachel panicked. It seemed like he was fine at conversing with Quinn, who'd cornered her at one point and told her, "Finn said my job was interesting. I think he likes me," which sent Rachel's confidence in their connection tumbling. Was it all in her imagination?

She sent all of the girls, except Brittany, who was glued to Artie and Santana, who always handed out toasting glasses of champagne, to finish the kitchen clean-up effort and organise most of their equipment, while she lit the candle in the cake and started a pitch perfect version of _Happy Birthday. _Rachel knew that she was a more talented singer than Brittany and she delighted in the jaw-dropping looks given from around the room. She timed her stroll across the room to be face to face with him at the end of the song and raised the plate with his preferred cupcake flavour and one candle in it up to his mouth. She wasn't sure whether it was because he was slightly drunk or his reaction to her but he struggled somewhat in blowing out the candle. She handed over the plate, while his friends cheered, clinked their glasses together and drank deeply.

Discreetly, hidden by the noise of celebration, Finn bent low and whispered in her ear, "You make me breathless."

Overcome by his sweet words and surprisingly minty, hot breath, Rachel leaned into him and placed an open-mouthed kiss on his cheek, the unfamiliar flush of arousal coursing through her veins. Wondering what would have happened if she'd done the job the real way, she attempted a quick escape to the safety of the main bathroom.

Finn accepted his friends' good wishes and back slaps with humour before chasing after Rachel down the hallway. Leaving things left that way was not going to happen. The open-mouthed cheek kiss sent his heart into overdrive and his blood flow south. It was the most singularly raunchy moment that had ever happened in his life and it wasn't even explicit. And her voice; she'd literally sung him sober. It was as sweet as the robin that had built a nest in the tree outside his bedroom morning and acted as an alarm clock. He caught up with her swiftly, thanks to his height; he completely dwarfed her. He grasped her upper arm to stop her and she spun around.

"I thought that other girl was going to sing. I mean, you were way better and everything but, it's just that, well, I saw a video of her and Artie, and then you... you were amazing. If it had've been you, well, I don't even know."

Rachel didn't know what to say to him. She felt like he was two different people, one who was kind and sexy, and the other lived in this apartment. She was in pieces about what to say or do for Santana, not just because she'd watched her and Brittany's relationship be crushed under the wheels of Artie's wheelchair but she'd still avoided telling her about Fanny and rehearsals were approaching at speed. She also thought she needed to have a serious discussion with Brittany about the seriousness of mono and limiting its spread. But right at this moment Rachel threw caution to the wind, imagining she may have been subliminally brainwashed by her mantra.

_Every risky experience has the potential to change your life._

"Thanks, you missed a great show though. I would have been the girl in your lap. I would have been in my underwear," she teased.

"It would've been your finger I sucked the icing off," he added, accidently taking the intensity of the flirtatious conversation to another dimension.

"Do you think that would be something you'd have liked to see?" she asked, interestedly.

"I do," he replied.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom across the hall, slamming and locking the door behind them. Using all of her weight Rachel pushed him onto the bed, as he wrapped his arm around her waist so when they fell backwards she was sprawled on top of him. Regaining her footing, Rachel stepped backwards out of his reach. Finn glanced up and saw her reflection in the mirrors above his head, quickly straightening to a sitting position.

Their eyes connected and didn't waver, even when nonchalantly, deliberately slow, she unbuttoned her shirt, starting from the top pearl and moving slowly, until the last one was undone. She shrugged out of the left side of the shirt first, and then the right and held it out to him. As he reached for the shirt and laid it next to him on bed, Finn found it impossible not to break eye contact and scan the top half of her body. Her tanned skin was luminescent against the pink lace of her bra, and the tiny curve of her waist highlighted the flatness of her stomach.

"You are so beautiful," he breathed and captured her gaze once more, practically sitting on his hands to stop from reaching out and caressing her.

Rachel reached behind her to drag the zipper down on her tight skirt. She shimmied out of it and it dropped it to floor. She picked it up and held it out to him again. Her heart skipped a beat at the reverence he showed as he smoothed it out on the duvet. Walking forward, she boldly straddled him with her thighs either side of his legs, bracing herself by placing her fingers through the loops of his jeans. She could feel him forcing the stillness of his body, concentrating to remain stationary.

"I know lots of other songs besides _Happy Birthday_," she whispered bravely, "Any requests?"

"If you're singing," he murmured, "I can't kiss you."

Rachel covered his mouth with hers, tentatively, and then pulled back, trying to gauge if she was going about this right. Finn moaned and she took that as a sign to press her lips back to his, shivering when he took control of the kiss and deepened it, pressing his tongue into her mouth. Stopping to draw breath, he begged, "I need to touch you."

"Yes," Rachel assented anticipatorily, tasting her way along his jaw line and down his neck, overwhelmed by the strength of his pulse, throbbing underneath her lips. She jumped slightly when his warm hands gripped her hips and then began tracing his fingertips along her bare thighs. Finn needed her closer, and slipped his palms around her perfect ass to slide her forward, groaning as her core pushed against his hardness. As Rachel was distracted by him alternating suckling on the sweet skin of her neck and savouring the taste of her mouth, his fingers skimmed the lace of her panties, slipping underneath and dipping into the wetness and returning to stroke her silky flesh.

Rachel gasped at the intimate touch but didn't halt his path. She raked her hands through his hair, revelling at the blissful sensation his skilled digits elicited. Finn loved the way her hips lifted to seek his attention; she was incredibly responsive and her tuneful sighs and pants were as enjoyable as her singing. He buried two fingers inside her, while his thumb repeatedly sought out and brushed against her swollen clit.

"So tight," he moaned, and created a perfect thrusting rhythm, while the pressure of his mouth marked the creamy skin on her neck.

"Don't stop," Rachel cried, and ground herself against his fingers, fisting his hair. Finn felt her tense and grip his fingers tightly from inside, smiling happily against her neck despite his erection straining painfully against his fly. Slowly, he drew the digits free and most definitely decided that Rachel tasted way better than cupcakes.

Erratic knocking on the bedroom door sent Rachel jumping up from Finn's lap, standing on shaky legs, boneless from the intensity of her orgasm. Finn stood to support her, splaying his hands across her hips and pulling her to his chest.

"What?" shouted Finn. He had no idea how long they'd been absent.

"You'd better not be asleep," Puck snorted, "You're missing _your_ party."

"I'll be right out," he called back. Finn sat on the bed, reaching for Rachel's shirt. As she pulled it around her, he buttoned it up, placing gentle kisses on her abdomen, chuckling when she writhed as a reaction from his warm breath on her skin. She stepped into her skirt and he swung around her body to zip her up, missing the view as soon as it was gone.

"I'm going to get your number from Santana," he bent down and kissed the pulse point on her neck making her jelly legged again, "I think we could be something special, you and me."

"Me too," she hoped. While he had his back to her to unlock the door, she yanked her panties down her legs and tucked them into his front jeans pocket, pressing the front of her body against the hard plane of his back. Finn held the door open and they parted ways, Finn to the living area and Rachel headed to the bathroom, only to be confronted by an angry Santana.

"Why didn't you tell me?" demanded Santana.

"About what?" For once, Rachel wasn't exactly sure to which situation Santana was referring to.

"Hours, Rachel, we spent hours discussing the _Funny Girl_ call back. And then, you actually get the role and you say absolutely nothing to me. Instead you went to Quinn. I can't believe you."

"I only got the understudy –, " Rachel was interrupted.

"I don't care! It doesn't matter! I can't believe you'd tell Quinn before me."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Rachel apologised, "I don't know what you want me to say to you."

"Nothing. Nothing, Rachel. You don't have to say anything. We just have to finish this up and get out of here. Talk to me tomorrow, when I've swallowed a dozen Advil and begun a course of anti-depressants'. I want this disaster over."

She shot Rachel a disgusted glance, and stalked off. From such highs to bottomed out lows, Rachel was completely devastated. Severely misjudging the situation with Santana left Rachel churned up inside and she had little comprehension about how to fix the problem. She figured her future might involve the consistent provision of ice cream and hugs.

**vi**

Despite the late or early hour, depending how you viewed it, Finn and Puck left the party- trashed apartment to find somewhere that served decent coffee and some food to soak up the remaining alcohol in their systems and avoid massive hangovers. The cool air was refreshing and Finn was enjoying reminiscing with Puck, much preferring this years after party, since they hadn't landed in jail. The catering girls had left quite soon after he'd discovered Rachel's panties in his pocket, which happened when he'd re-entered the living area and was tackled by Puck, Jake and Rory. They had decided to either shave his eyebrows or armpits until Marley's good sense overrode their stupidity and the party was declared to be done. While stuck in a Jake strong headlock Finn asked Puck to ask Santana for Rachel's number, reciting details about Rachel instead of names – Puck wouldn't have known that and he'd gone into wingman action immediately disappearing for a period. After the guests had been farewelled Finn decided he was hungry again, which commanded a food mission.

As they walked Finn discussed almost anything to try and delay asking Puck for information, but eventually ran out of patience.

"So, did you get me that girl's number," Finn tried to be casual.

"Yeah, about that," Puck set his face to commiserating, "turns out, that chick is a lesbian."

Finn stopped short and stared at Puck, "No, she really isn't, don't be stupid,"

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger, man, that's what the smaller boobed blonde girl said." Puck continued ambling along the sidewalk. "I had to ask her 'cause that other girl, she would've punched me. Definitely."

"Quinn said that Rachel was gay?" Finn questioned. He was actually pretty good with names.

"Nope, she said the cake girl, who was singing is gay. She said the mean brunette is her girlfriend. And then mentioned a possible assault if you asked her for the cake girl's number."

"I thought Brittany was Santana's girlfriend?"

"Which one was Brittany? I'm no good with names; describe."

"The one in Artie's lap?"

"Why would she be in Artie's lap if she was gay? Or had a girlfriend?" quizzed Puck. "That's fucked up."

"I don't know, but I do know Rachel isn't gay."

"I'm just telling you what the other blonde said. I'm sure she knows, dude, she's their friend. You met her for a couple of hours."

Finn felt as if his head was going to explode. They entered the cafe, ordered at the counter, and then found a booth, taking one side each.

"But she… kissed me?" Finn continued, "And smiled when I told her I was going to ask Santana for her number." He wasn't going to detail what happened. Really, he hated when Puck gave him more than the basics.

"We're still talking about the shorty, right?"

Finn nodded and gulped his coffee, hoping it would clear his fuzzy head but burnt his tongue instead.

"Well, it was her job to make sure you had a good time," Puck said, wiggling his eyebrows in a vaguely suggestive manner, "Maybe, she drew the short straw. Wait, was this kiss when you were locked up in my bedroom?"

Finn nodded again, in disbelief about the turn of events. He patted his pants pocket, and sighed with relief when he felt the lacy material against his palm. Totally wasn't just a dream, he thought.

"Didn't you hear the fight those girls had when she came out? The stacked brunette shouted at the other one and then started crying and the short one was saying, 'I'm sorry' over and over. Maybe your kiss fucked up their relationship! Man, that's super high on my bucket list. Turning a lesbian is like my dream!"

"Dude, you're being incredibly offensive right now," Finn rubbed his temples with his fingertips, exhausted from the day and this conversation, while Puck laughed. Did Rachel give him her panties like some kind of token? Were they a concrete reminder of something she didn't intend to continue? Or worst of all possible options, did she pity him because it was his birthday? Maybe he was just dazed from his incredibly busy week.

"Finn, don't worry. I did you a favour." Puck crunched his dry toast. "I got you the blonde girl your number instead. She seemed really into you."

"What? The real estate agent? I don't want to date her," Finn declared, frustrated.

"Beggars can't be choosers, Finessa. She was alright. Had nice green eyes, smelled pretty good. Isn't a lesbian." Puck defended Quinn's good qualities. "I had her eating out of the palm of my hand. I totally convinced her you were interested."

"But I'm not. Not even a tiny bit," complained Finn.

"Just go out with her to ask about your lesbian girlfriend then. When she tells you what she told me, then at least you'll have closure," Puck air quoted the word, closure, "And then you can bang the shit out of blondie and will have something totally not boring to add to these conversations."

**vii**

After a restless night, Rachel woke up and caught a cab to the weekend cafe, where she always met up with the staff from 'Pierces' Parties'. Santana was asleep when Rachel had left, unsurprisingly. Having curtains for doors had never really bothered Rachel – usually she slipped on a pair of noise cancelling headphones when she didn't fancy being an aural voyeur. But Santana's heartbreaking sobbing made her stomach lurch; she'd slid into bed and spooned with her, accepting the unspoken agreement that she was in no way forgiven but her presence was appreciated. Brittany had text messaged Rachel that morning, giving her apologies with the unnecessary information that Artie had kept her up all night. Rachel's, often commented on, self centeredness came into play when Tina, who had decided to stay at home with Mike for breakfast, told her about how Sugar had hooked up with Finn's cousin Rory at the party – apparently they knew each other from when Sugar had been abroad. Rachel, with her double drama, hadn't even noticed.

Rachel was honestly dreading the meeting with Quinn, who never seemed to be lacking in sleep, no matter what the time she went to bed. Her mood was always cheery, with a side of, why the hell aren't you as happy as me? It was a mistake to actually tell her why though because her response would be trying to solve all of your problems as if you life was a breeze. Without any of her other friends to act as a buffer Rachel wasn't the mood for Quinn's life lessons.

As usual, Quinn burst through the doors making such a dramatic entrance that she had Rachel wondering which of them was actually the better actress.

"You'll never guess what happened to me!" she spewed out, without so much as a greeting. Quinn looked around then, as if she just noticed the fact that the other four girls that usually joined them were missing. "Where is everyone?" she added.

Rachel knew then what Quinn had to say was obviously complimentary or painted her in a good light. She didn't much care for Brittany and Santana, was threatened by Sugars' wealth and therefore treated her very poorly, and was always in disbelief that Tina was willingly marrying Mike, because his career as a dancer was a 'risky life chance'. All of this pointed to the fact that Quinn really wanted to brag and only Rachel just wouldn't do.

"They're busy," Rachel shovelled way too many scrambled eggs into her mouth, producing a disgusted look from Quinn and quickly realising she'd left herself open from defenceless chatter.

"So, you know how I was talking about dating Finn Hudson yesterday?"

"Yes," Rachel showed Quinn a chewed up mouthful of food. She knew that it was petty and even quite disgusting but she was doing the job for four other absent girls here.

"He asked me out!"

"What!" Chewed up eggs were spat across the table, hitting Quinn on the cheek and landing all over their table, whilst simultaneously swallowed and choked on.

"Ugh, Rachel, that's disgusting," Quinn was revolted and ceased telling her story while she retrieved wet wipes from her designer handbag and spent an inordinate amount of time dabbing her face in her compact mirror and fixing the damage Rachel had done to her made-up face. A completely stunned Rachel drank all of her glass of water, and then sat mute in incredulity at Quinn's words.

Waves of insecurity washed over her, as Quinn explained that Finn's mohawked friend had actually done the asking because Finn was so shy, but according to Puck, real estate was a specific interest of Finn Hudson, and he knew having that in common would be a great base to start their relationship. Rachel thought Quinn might be overselling this – it could be some huge error. As Quinn gabbed on about how she just knew that Finn was checking her out, Rachel kept calm. When Quinn mentioned about how Puck had told her Finn's preference for blondes was almost an obsession, Rachel shrugged her shoulders with indifference. A mention of how Finn's palm had accidently brushed Quinn's ass, which must have been deliberate earned a "Meh" from Rachel. A mistake, it was a gargantuan mistake, so there was no need to be bothered.

After they'd both finished eating, during which Rachel was treated to an informal lecture about the fine qualities of one Finn Hudson, which didn't include his tendency to say simplistic, unassuming things which actually set her alight, the fact that his eye always caught hers no matter where she was in the room, or that he could make her come in about ten minutes with his long and talented fingers, Quinn's obnoxious ringtone sounded. She quickly read the message and shot one back, grinning like a fool.

"Who was that?" Rachel prompted; since Quinn's blatant behaviour was inviting the question.

"That was Finn," Quinn whispered. Rachel wasn't sure why she'd spoken so quietly. It wasn't like he was a secret agent, although, he did seem to have a double life or so it seemed. Or was Quinn's ecstatic smile cutting off the blood flow to vocal cords? Rachel had to admit she was considering that avenue too.

"What did he say?" Rachel followed the conversational pattern that Quinn had designed, despite a feeling of suffocation descending upon her, her apathetic attitude from a few moments early completely obliterated.

Words had obviously escaped Quinn, or she was so overcome with excitement that she was rendered silent. She held up her phone to Rachel.

_Am glad I got given your number. Would it be possible to meet soon? Finn_

Rachel forced herself to sit and listen to Quinn strategising her written text response to Finn, contributing where necessary, despite feeling as if her stomach had dissolved and the food she just ate would be making its reappearance. She sat and took note of exactly what was in Quinn's wardrobe to help construct the perfect casual date outfit, reminding herself that if this was the pain that existed when a man said he'd do something and did something completely out of left field then it probably wasn't worth it. Rachel pictured herself as the chief bridesmaid at Quinn and Finn's wedding, giving a great speech about how they'd all met at Finn's birthday, where Quinn had found a husband and Rachel left having her first orgasm at the hands of another person, shocking the audience when she revealed that person as, Quinn's husband.

And then she stopped. Rachel decided that feeling sorry for herself was unproductive. Bidding Quinn farewell, Rachel stopped on her way home to buy some ice-cream for Santana. She also bought flowers to thank her for all of her help preparing for her _Funny Girl_ audition. But mostly she reviewed the mantra that had enabled this disaster.

_Every risky decision has the potential to change your life. Except if it involves Finn Hudson. Because then it will draw you in, stomp all over you and completely ruin your life._

**A/N** I feel like this is completely disjointed and kind of bad, but I hope it makes sense. Also self-editing is hard. Next chapter is probably last and all misunderstandings will be cleared up, obviously.


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three

**i**

"Hey, Kurt," Finn asked casually, handing over the carton of Mu Shu pork, "Have you ever been attracted to a girl?"

Kurt was the best birthday present giver ever. He helped make Finn's home unique and comfortable, not giving him too much grief about the dodgy location. He'd also given Finn ski equipment one year because he'd listened when offhandedly Finn had told him his holiday dream of skiing in Switzerland. And this year, knowing Finn's ineptitude in the kitchen he'd bought him gift certificates to all his favourite take away places, making sure some of those were healthier options like sushi and the Chinese food they were eating tonight.

Kurt had been in Mexico with his boyfriend during Finn's celebration and had only just returned, two weeks later, which was why they were just convening now. Blaine was just about to begin intensive rehearsals for a show, which would negate his future free time and Kurt was a stickler for celebrating romantic anniversaries even if they hadn't happened yet so Finn had told him to go on holiday even though it was his birthday. Finn also knew that Kurt's atypical absence for his birthday was a happy coincidence because he'd always avoided Puck's parties or company like the plague, jokingly citing irreconcilable differences. Even with how thoughtful Kurt's gift was though, including the traditional sombrero and pure tequila from Mexico, Finn's favourite birthday present was when Rachel gave him permission to touch her. And taste her.

He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her, and about what happened between them. Rachel had seeped into his blood and his heartbeat pulsed her through his body. Rachel was the _only_ reason that Finn was willing to enter into such an awkward discussion with Kurt.

"Yesterday, in the long customs queue at the airport, this perfectly tanned woman standing in front of us was wearing Marc Jacobs gladiator sandals and I thought, nope, not even in those gorgeous shoes," Kurt winked, "So, I suppose the answer is no. Does this have anything to do with Puck's nonsensical voice mail about you being in love with a lesbian?"

Finn grimaced. Puck's big mouth had always spurred Finn on or led him into trouble but it was impossible to be too disappointed with him, since after his party, when Finn had mistakenly made a date purely to obtain information about Rachel, Puck had agreed to meet with the girl named Quinn instead and apologise for Finn standing her up. He'd decided he just couldn't manipulate someone that way, but he knew Puck wouldn't be so reticent. Finn just hoped Puck's approach was slightly delicate.

"Kind of," Finn admitted, completely bewildered. The whole situation sounded so improbable that Finn was not sure his clumsy clarification would properly convey the depth of his emotions, or if his Rachel connection creation could be construed correctly.

"Explain," said Kurt, pointing at Finn with a chopstick.

"I can't." There wasn't really any point anyway because apparently Rachel had a girlfriend and Finn's feelings were irrelevant. "It's just like, do you think you could ever, you know, _be with_ a girl."

"Well, I don't think I could be with anyone other than Blaine right now, so there's that. But Finn, I think, sexuality is fluid and people shouldn't put themselves in boxes, every single person is distinct and you have to respect that they know what they want and treat every individual as a special case."

"She definitely was special," Finn smiled, closed his eyes and put his feet on his coffee table, as he conjured the memory of her skin, her eyes, and her voice. At the same time he was equally frustrated with his lack of significant knowledge he possessed about the minutiae of her life.

"Gaining her friendship is the first step, then, I suppose," Kurt shrugged, "And when you know her better you can instigate a discussion about her sexual proclivity."

Kurt's level headed approach was sensible, but incredibly exasperating because the probability of a two steps forward, two steps back routine was more than likely, with acquaintance being the ultimate outcome. Finn was usually a practical person with most of his relationships being one night stands or short-term liaisons that dissolved into amicable friendships because of his penchant to be too absorbed in his job. But with Rachel he wanted to skip them right to love and commitment.

Finn was glad he'd sought the counsel of Kurt, over Puck, since his reputation with women was successful in bed, but never out of it, not that Puck ever minded. But given that since returning to LA, Puck had veritably vanished, he wasn't able to offer an opinion anyway. Finn could usually count on Puck to send at least five inappropriate text messages a day, which may or may not include pictures of potential dates, dirty jokes or memes and information that could be filed in the _'I didn't need to know that'_ recesses of Finn's head. He was a regular caller to Finn's cell and caustic commenter on Kurt's Facebook photos, which were uploaded at alarmingly regular intervals. Finn imagined that his backload of work that accumulated while he was in New York was mountainous though and left him to plough his way through it, leaving a quick thank you message on his voice mail for the party and the mocking gift Puck had left him, a choice of laser surgery to remove his tattoo or the number of a reputable tattoo artist to add to his ink.

"I have to find her first, though," Finn muttered, the task proving harder than he'd first thought. He'd contacted the company, 'Pierce's Parties' but a change of owner had come into effect and Santana or Rachel were no longer employed there. The new owner, Al Motta refused to release details about previous staff. Finn didn't even have Rachel's last name and he'd deleted Quinn's number when Puck had agreed to stand in for Finn. He hadn't given up yet though, he was just ruminating over the next step.

"Hey, I have to leave your neighbourhood before dark," Kurt laughed darkly, "But first we have to do this."

He held out two fortune cookies and let Finn have the choice, since it was his belated birthday dinner. It had always been a Kurt and Finn tradition to read them aloud, because according to Kurt vocalising the fortune would make it true – the complete opposite to normal wishes but Finn had never questioned him. Getting into an argument with Kurt was like jumping without a parachute, a lengthy and exhilarating fall, then bang, you hit the ground and completely regretted it. Finn cracked his open and inwardly groaned as he read.

Kurt held his up and grinned smugly, "_You will be forever loved_."

Finn never won this. "_Misunderstandings will be explained, have patience_."

"Swap?" asked Finn.

"No swapsies," Kurt laughed, at the exact same time.

**ii**

Rachel had never been so busy. The past three weeks had been a whirlwind of emotions, achievement and tasks. Firstly, and most amazingly Rachel had won the lead role of Fanny Brice, in Funny Girl. The original lead actress cast had found out that she was pregnant. Rachel's conservative Great Aunt Anne would have said that she had anticipated her wedding vows but it was a huge cause of celebration for the whole production because she was actually having the directors' baby and would stay involved in the production. Blaine, Rachel's male co-star had quietly admitted that he felt that he and Rachel had more chemistry anyway and was secretly delighted at their directors' unstoppable sperm. Rachel had guffawed at Blaine's sense of humour and felt incredibly comfortable acting with him and being in his Broadway experienced hands.

And as soon as Rachel had learned she had gotten the part, Santana was the first person she informed. It had taken a lot of ice cream and unreasonable demands for Rachel to win Santana's favour again but she hadn't minded. Santana's lousy love life depression and hurt feelings translated into Rachel doing her laundry and becoming best friends with the nearest 7-11 owner that sold mint choc chip, but on the up side Rachel's best timed mile run had been cut by two minutes and had allowed her plenty of alone time to learn her lines, enjoying the heat emitted from the dryers.

It had been quite a relief for everyone involved when Santana had been approached by Mr. Motta to buy 'Pierce's Parties'. Santana had been the consummate business professional and acted as she was devastated to be part from it, even though she fervently wanted to be rid of the affliction that was eating all her time and energy and had left her heartbroken. With an internship on the horizon at a prestigious law firm Santana would have never been able to keep up with the demands of both positions and Mr Motta's offer came at exactly the right time and for the right price. Despite not earning a huge profit, Santana had shared the meagre amount with Rachel, to celebrate her acting promotion because without their interference in what was essentially Brittany's dream, everything would have been lost. Brittany was working for Artie's production company now, as a gopher or assistant of some sort, with lofty aspirations of becoming a journalist. He had indulged her and demonstrated how to set up her own web blog show but so far Brittany had spent too many episodes only interviewing Lord Tubbington, her cat. Rachel had to ban Santana from watching YouTube for her own self-preservation but also to save Rachel's own sanity. Watching Lord Tubbington eat any other type of cheese and she would have been forced to kidnap him for veterinarian treatment. No one, including cats should eat that much melted cheddar ever.

However, as well as things had been going, Rachel's mind wandered to Finn very often. She didn't mean for it to happen but shelving one of the most amazing experiences of her life just wasn't possible. It had been easy at first to separate thoughts of Finn and herself from Quinn, because for two weeks after that heart stomping breakfast Quinn had disappeared. All of Rachel's calls went through to voicemail and Quinn put a blanket statement on Facebook that she was snowed under with work and she'd get back to everyone as soon as possible. Rachel didn't want to think that Finn was probably Quinn's 'work' but it wasn't unprecedented that she forgot her friends while she pursued her future fortune. That thought wrapped around Rachel's heart and squeezed. But now that Quinn had announced she was free from whatever had her tangled up and was ready to socialise, Rachel had arranged to meet her at their usual coffee shop. She was prepared to hear something potentially disturbing. In fact, at this stage it was like a snowball rolling down a mountain and Rachel required Quinn's detail about her dating life to reach 'closure'. Santana had laughingly used that phrase when she'd packed up Brittany's belongings.

Citing an all too recent, painful trauma, Santana refused to attend lunch with Quinn. Her belief was that you could only really milk a break up for a month and she had hit the three week mark and needed to eke out as much sympathy and excuses as possible. Rachel was upset because Santana wouldn't be there to run interference but if she had been there, Rachel didn't think she would be able to conceal her emotions about the situation either. Rachel had been like a steel trap about the whole 'Finn' experience because it was too special to share. It was a precious present only for her to unwrap and enjoy and then bundle it back up and keep hidden.

Walking into the coffee shop, Rachel was surprised to see Quinn had already arrived.

After a greeting and hug, Quinn announced, "I'm in love."

"Really?" Rachel spoke through gritted teeth, as her stomach heaved violently and throat constricted. She couldn't blame Quinn though. Rachel thinks she might have fallen in love with Finn after a passionate encounter and schmaltzy version of Happy Birthday so she was surprised it had taken Quinn three weeks to arrive at the same conclusion. Her eyes shined with health and vitality. She had never seen Quinn look so bright, yet there was a dishevelled aspect to her that improved her visage, if that was possible.

"I've actually been in Los Angeles. He paid for my flight there and back, even though I specifically told him I was financially viable. He said, 'Let me take care of this, baby.' You know that baby is not my favourite term of endearment, but I melt when he says it and believe me he says it a lot. His home there is worse than the one here, with a gaudy fountain and the colour scheme is awful but he said I could 'soften' it when I move in. And he is so generous, look what he bought me!"

Rachel examined the bracelet on the wrist that Quinn had thrust in her face. It was a flamboyant example of a designer squashing as many diamonds as possible on a gaudy gold chain. In Rachel's head, Finn preferred the subtle charm of silver or ornate filigree or white gold.

"Wow," Rachel was leaden, "Expensive."

Quinn beamed with joy before abruptly changing the subject. "I quit my job."

"What!" exclaimed Rachel, "Why?"

"I want to spend all my time with him, and use my time to attend to him."

"Attend to him? What is this? 1950?" Rachel was dumbfounded. More annoying than anything else was how the whole picture she had created in her head of Finn Hudson was being painted over with slapdash Pollack-like brushwork. Rachel's Finn would be continually supportive of her dreams, standing behind her, encouraging her by reading lines and helping her capture the mood of a scene.

"He didn't say that, Rachel," replied a piqued Quinn, "_I_ want to be there for _him_. He is so busy expanding his company and I can use my college degree to help."

"You're an art history major. That's not related in any way to expanding a business." Rachel frowned, wondering what business Finn was in. She prayed ardently that he was not an accountant. Not that his profession had any relevance whatsoever in her life.

"Actually, curators and gallery directors are positions art history majors are qualified for and a gallery is a business. I've also been in real estate. You are being extremely negative, Rachel. I understand that you are jealous but you need to push those feelings aside to be happy for me." Quinn huffed and frowned, while checking her phone and fingering the blinding monstrosity weighing down her wrist.

Rachel was livid with Quinn, mostly because she was horribly resentful. Not because of Quinn's relationship but because of who her relationship was with. Except Finn was nothing like she had thought and she didn't understand why she felt a genuine ache that his 'real' personality was so grating. Was it possible to have such scorching chemistry with someone you didn't even like? Obviously, thought Rachel, stupidly.

"I'm sorry," she apologised. It wasn't Quinn's fault that Finn had preferred her. Quinn hadn't even known about their out of character clinch and Rachel vowed to change her attitude. "If this is what you want, of course I will support you."

"Thank you!" Quinn replied brightly. "Now, I'm going back to LA soon and I need you to take Brad."

Brad was Quinn's cat. He was some kind of creepy hypoallergenic breed that didn't shed all over Quinn's pastel furniture. Rachel liked cats but preferred them to have fur.

"Forever?" she said, faintly. Rachel was sorry for being less than enthusiastic about Quinn's new relationship but she wasn't feeling so remorseful that a feline could be foisted upon her.

"Of course not. Just until I get back," Quinn said, noncommittally. "We will take him back to your apartment today. While we are at my house you can help me pack. I'm moving in with him but we haven't decided whether we are going to stay in LA or if he is going to move to New York full time to oversee the business transition."

"Sure," she replied. Bleakly, she wondered how in the world, after everything that had happened, Quinn managed to end up with her fairy tale and all Rachel got was Brad.

**iii**

Finn, like most teachers, drank way too much coffee. But that didn't mean he actually liked the taste of it, especially since the teacher's lounge coffee could be compared to muddy ground. When he went to Starbucks alone he ordered drinks with chocolate flakes, or caramel sauce, or whipped cream, but when he there with any other person, he stuck to black coffee. Of course behind their backs he dumped more sugar in it than was advisable just to make it drinkable. But Kurt's new obsession was organic and whole foods so he had chosen to give Finn a gift certificate to some independent, hole in the wall, hipster coffee shop to subtly influence Finn's wellbeing, instead of an easily accessible Starbucks.

Amazingly, it had turned out well because their coffee was kind of drinkable without so much sugar, and inside radiated a sense of peacefulness. Finn couldn't concentrate at home anymore with the noise from the downstairs apartment. At least two of the families that lived there had newborn babies and their cries were way louder than his drums. But as well as being quiet, it was the place where Finn had a brain wave about how to trace Rachel. He remembered, while staring at a poster advertising film school, that Artie was a possible link connecting him to Rachel.

If he knew Artie and he definitely did, he would have secured Brittany's contact details. Surgically enhanced blondes were Artie's first love, equal with his desire to create a space movie series that rivalled _Star Wars, _and Brittany fit the bill, plus she must be fairly familiar with Rachel. They worked together after all. Reaching Rachel through Artie and then Brittany was proving difficult though because Artie was directing some science fiction blockbuster in an Eastern European country that Finn couldn't remember the name of. Apparently, the lead actress was some A list diva, who required complete confidentiality and Artie had chosen to sequester himself so his big mouth wouldn't leak her name.

Finn's highly frustrating wait came to an end unexpectedly. He sat in the coffee shop making notes on his music for the upcoming lessons he had, when the door swung open sending his papers flying. Organisation was not his strong point and Finn knew he had to reorder them quickly before he forgot where they belonged in the pile so he dropped to his hands and knees to gather them together.

On his hands and knees he came face to face with Rachel.

Rachel had to get out of her apartment. Santana had been practising a closing argument out loud for days and Rachel thought even she knew it word for word now, including tonal inflections and expressions. Also, Brad the cat was a vicious predator that pounced on and attacked everyone, except for Santana. It came as a bit of a shock but Santana had become fond of Brad too. She would give him attention and play with him but wouldn't stoop to provide his basic needs or do any of the mundane care tasks that were necessary so that Brad didn't go feral.

"_Rachel, Brad needs food!" Santana would shout, while reclining on the couch with Brad snuggled into her chest._

"_Brad needs new kitty litter, Rachel!" Santana would complain, "It smells so bad!"_

"_Rachel, don't forget, Brad needs more cat milk when you go out." Santana was very outspoken on Brad's need for treats, as long as she didn't have to pay or shop for them. _

Rachel had quite enough of Santana and Brad, so, she fled, running to a serene coffee shop where she planned to drink something that would probably send her nerves further into overdrive. But Rachel really didn't care. She flew through the door and sent some poor schmucks paper flying. Feeling guilty, she fell to her knees to help and almost bumped heads with Finn.

"It's you!" he exclaimed, causing looks of annoyance from the calm clientele.

"Yep, me," Rachel replied, bleakly, thinking to herself that Finn shouldn't be expressing such pleasure at seeing her. She was his girlfriend's best friend with whom he'd had a one orgasm stand. He hadn't even experienced that orgasm.

"Let me buy you a coffee," Finn offered, mostly to get her to stay, "We can sit and talk."

"Why?" asked Rachel cynically, without enthusiasm. Adrenaline was pumping through her body, completely contradicting her verbal responses. She was relying purely on her acting skills to pull through their encounter so she wouldn't launch herself into his arms and ask him to love her forever.

Finn was disappointed with Rachel's reserve but he suddenly realised just because he was desperately seeking Rachel didn't mean she had any impetus to see him again. If she was dating Santana then perhaps this meeting was bringing up unhappy memories.

"I would really like us to be friends." Finn told himself he'd be happy with Rachel's friendship.

"Yes," Rachel conceded, "I suppose we should be friends, given the circumstances."

Rachel figured that she wasn't getting rid of Finn anytime soon since he'd weaselled his way into Quinn's life, so they might as well have coffee. Although she'd admit she was a bit pissed since she was still looking after Brad when Finn was in New York. He would have to meet Brad sometime and obviously Quinn was putting off an introduction which vaporised Rachel's good will towards her, even if she understood that delaying that baptism of fire was reasonable.

"Great," Finn replied, his heart dancing in his chest. 'Given the circumstances' didn't really fill him with positivity but he was glad she thought they could be friends. He really couldn't help but notice that she was wearing yoga pants that hugged the best ass he'd ever seen. Her face was pink from exertion and her hair was pulled back from her face, advertising the perfect line of her jaw, down her graceful neck.

As they approached the counter the barista she gave the both of them an exasperated glare.

"You can't _talk_ here," she informed them tersely, but with utmost gravity, while also proving she was an excellent eavesdropper. "We believe and practice in the soothing effect of environmental noise. Be it the rain, or traffic or a crackling fireplace, it is the only noise we allow. You will have to take your chatter elsewhere."

Side eying Rachel, he could see she was struggling to remain serious and respectful of the girl who would be responsible for the quality of her drink and almost laughed aloud, but then he remembered that without the excuse of coffee he had absolutely no reason to interact with Rachel. Which would be a travesty since they had so much in common like finding humour in overly dramatic baristas.

"Make that drink take-away," he insisted, looking to Rachel for confirmation, "We can go to my house. It's not too far from here."

Rachel nodded in agreement to get coffee to go and drink it at his apartment, happy to be playing detective for the afternoon. She convinced herself that she needed to check Finn out since Quinn had completely lost herself in their future, but Rachel wasn't entirely unaware. She knew that her real motivations lay in her own interests.

Exiting the coffee shop and continuing down the sidewalk in companionable silence Rachel felt quite comfortable. Finn pointed out a bar he liked and she murmured noncommittally, even though it looked exactly like somewhere she'd go with Santana. Rachel chuckled at some rambunctious kids playing a vigorous game of tag on the street, glancing at Finn to see him smiling at exactly the same thing. She wondered if he felt the same feeling of connectedness between them, an invisible tether that was demonstrated through similarities and attraction and a sense of contentment that existed simply by being together, but she chose to ignore the fact that Finn was Quinn's boyfriend. She couldn't wrap her mind around that.

Horrified, she hoped to goodness that Finn wasn't going to suggest a threesome. Yes, she'd read some of Tina's saucy novels in her downtime, but mostly they were two men worshiping one woman. That sounded okay in theory but Rachel knew she was a monogamous creature by design and sharing the spotlight wasn't a strength of hers. There was no way Quinn would ever enter that equation.

"We're here." Finn announced, still uncertain why Rachel was so quick to agree to come to his home but realising sometimes it wasn't clever to question these things. He wondered how her relationship with Santana was going.

"How is Santana?" he asked, torn between wanting a disdainful response but not wishing for a miserable Rachel.

"Don't ask," groaned Rachel, "She's a needy, loud pain in my butt. Between her and Brad I don't feel like I've had a second to myself lately."

Finn paled as he wondered who the hell Brad was.

"But you love her so you put up with it?" Finn winced, knowing the answer would be affirmative. He wasn't necessarily the smartest guy but he had a strong intuition and his connection with Rachel was beyond anything he'd felt before.

"Yes, I love her so I put up with her," she repeated, with a long suffering tone, "Hopefully this painful period of our relationship will be over soon and we'll move forward to a time where I am not also her personal slave."

Rachel didn't know when Quinn had spoken to Finn about her but it made this situation very strange. He seemed to know a lot about her and she knew nothing about him.

They entered the lobby of his apartment building and Rachel was shocked to see how crowded it was. Bodies overflowed from the stairwell and sat on the tiled floor in groups speaking a language that Rachel didn't recognise. There were definite differences between the uptown party apartment building and this one. Quinn must have never been here before because she would have been eager to report the violation of several building codes.

Finn saw Rachel's head swivelling wildly, trying to take in the overpopulation of his home.

Blushing, he explained, "I like living with so many people around. There is a good sense of security and we help each other. They make awesome Armenian food for me and I help them read their mail. It works."

Some of the older women nudged each other and pointed at Finn and Rachel, laughing heartily, in the universal sign language that meant they saw the connection between the two of them. Rachel smiled at them, unaware of their silent approval and followed Finn up the stairs to his second floor apartment. The dichotomy between Quinn's Finn and this Finn was becoming wider and even harder to understand.

Finn opened his door and watched as Rachel slid inside gracefully. He studied her as she glided around room, examining the pictures on his wall and various other objects in his home that Kurt had strategically placed.

"Your home is very liveable," Rachel admitted, favourably comparing this home with the garish apartment that staged his birthday, "I like all the musical memorabilia."

"I teach music," Finn shrugged, "and I like it too, but Kurt, my brother decorated my apartment. He found all this amazing stuff."

Rachel thought that it was a good mix of relaxing and practical then, with a drum set and guitar given plenty of floor space, obviously for his business. If he was expanding his music teaching business like Quinn had said then maybe he was searching for a commercial space – although that didn't really explain why he had two apartments in New York unless he was planning to use this one as a bachelor pad and the fancy one for Quinn – maybe he thought that Rachel wouldn't mention this to Quinn, but if he did he was very wrong!

Finn stared as she scrutinised his family photos on the mantelpiece. He had to admit he would enjoy the view of her in his apartment forever. She sauntered, more than strolled, she glided rather than walked. Shaking his head at his pathetic internal poetry Finn went back to appreciating her in silence.

Rachel took it upon herself to dissect Finn's environment. She thought inspecting his photographs would be telling but squinting at a picture she was shocked to see Finn, a tall man and Blaine, her co-star.

"How do you know Blaine Anderson?" she quizzed.

"Blaine is my brother's boyfriend," he frowned, "Actually, I suppose fiancé now because they are getting married. Well, they're engaged anyway. How do you know Blaine?"

"I'm his Fanny."

"I'm Fanny Brice, from Funny Girl," she continued at Finn's blushing, silent confusion.

"Fanny Brice is the lead female role in Funny Girl, which is an off-Broadway revival. Blaine is the lead male role. We are co-stars."

Finn realised that Rachel's patient explanations made her more attractive to him. He didn't appreciate feeling stupid, and people caused him to feel that way a lot. Add in her background, as a performer and she'd fit perfectly into his family. Kurt was in fashion and Blaine was a performer and he was in music. They'd always have stuff to talk about. Although Finn decided he'd leave that discussion for later. Like never.

Dismally, Rachel thought she was never going to be able to escape Finn. She had become great friends with his almost brother in law and her close friend was determined to attach herself to Finn forever. To be eternally interacting with someone she had a secret past with that she couldn't talk about. Well, maybe a chat would be appropriate with Santana but only if she wanted it thrown in her face. Santana was actually quite the romantic prude despite being verbally opposite.

"I knew Blaine was in something new but I didn't know what. I haven't seen him since he got back from holiday with my brother. He's been too busy with... _rehearsals_. He's very talented but you are the most talented person I know."

Feeling irrational jealousy that Blaine was spending time with Rachel, Finn gripped the counter tight and wondered what was wrong with him.

"Really," Rachel was flattered, "You've only heard me sing _Happy Birthday_."

"Yeah, but," Finn pushed it a bit further, "I can tell. I've heard Blaine sing plenty and apparently he is super talented but I hear you and it sounds like angels. You are going to be a huge star."

"Thank you." Rachel was embarrassed and confused. Was Finn flirting with her or just complimenting her like a friend? Because he shouldn't be flirting with her, no matter how much she wanted him to be. But she'd never been particularly good at reading the intentions of men, obviously. Flustered, she excused herself to the bathroom.

After pointing out the bathroom Finn slumped on his couch. He considered getting some inside scoop on Rachel from Blaine since he felt the status of her relationship was standing in the way of them getting to know each other. She was keeping herself at a distance and he didn't know why.

Rachel headed towards the bathroom but as soon as Finn lowered his tall form to the couch she detoured into his bedroom. She didn't really know what she hoped to find. Maybe something that outed him as a douchebag. Quickly, she examined the objects on the drawer. A few guitar picks, some change but nothing informative. It was quite tidy. And then, something pink and lacy caught her eye.

Memories surfaced of her wanton behaviour at Finn's birthday party. She had forgotten, or repressed that she had gifted him with her underpants and here they were, a stark reminder of her bad decisions made purely on impulse. How dare he keep these, Rachel thought to herself, after a quick peek at the size revealed them to be hers. She had deliberately bought them a size smaller – and she had to admit they'd had made her butt look fantastic. She was about to pocket them when she heard Finn approach his room, panicking because she knew her surveillance mission couldn't be aborted. Feeling she had no choice she decided she would just have to confront him head on – her honesty and brutal assessment of a situation would have to be applied right here, right now.

Slightly concerned at the length of time Rachel was taking, Finn went to check on her, although he was quite sure it would be an awkward conversation if he had to assist her in any way. He lumbered down the hallway and was confronted by an angry Rachel, shaking her pair of panties at him.

"What are you doing with these?" She flung her words at him with so much force he unconsciously took a step back.

"You gave them to me," he replied, gently, using his teachers' voice.

"But," she demanded, "How could you keep them?"

Her face was red with anger, but Finn sensed she was upset, more emotional than angry. He decided that he would be completely honest with her.

"Rachel," he explained, patiently, "That night, with you. It was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I think I fell in love with you when you first starting singing. And then, your kiss and your touch were so perfect. You're all I've thought about since that night."

"You are lying. You are in love with my friend, Quinn!" Rachel knew she was screaming and possibly slightly hysterical but she felt like she was rolling downhill with no brakes.

"What are you talking about?" Finn was completely bewildered.

"Please, Finn," Rachel scoffed, "I saw the text you sent her the next day. We were at breakfast together and she showed me. You wanted to meet with her, so don't spin me a ridiculous story."

Finn was aghast that Rachel would actually think he was interested in her friend. But he was also kind of mad. She was kind of a hypocrite since she was dating Santana.

"I wanted to see her to ask about_ you_. My friend, Puck, had a conversation with your friend and she informed him that the girl that sung 'Happy Birthday' was in fact a lesbian. And not only that! You're dating Santana, right? So I get that you are upset that I kept you're panties but I wanted to have something to remember the best sexual experience of my life even though it was obviously just some kind of weird laugh you had to have."

Rachel stood stunned. Embarrassed, but slightly baffled.

"That was the best sexual experience of your life?"

"Yes," sighed Finn.

"But you didn't, you know?" Rachel raised her eyebrows and tried to indicate an orgasm with twitching face muscles and squinty eyes.

Finn burst out laughing. "You can't even say it! Rachel, you sat on my lap and I fingered you. Feeling you tense around my fingers, tasting your come on my tongue. That was the most amazing thing ever. I was completely satisfied with how it went down, believe me."

"Oh." Rachel had never been struck dumb before. As she felt her face redden she reviewed what was said.

"I'm not a lesbian." Rachel couldn't think of anything else to say.

"But Puck said that Quinn said that the girl that sings 'Happy Birthday' was a lesbian?" Finn frowned.

"Usually Brittany sung 'Happy Birthday'. I was filling in," Rachel explained.

"But Brittany is dating Artie? So, how is she a lesbian?" Finn was more confused than ever.

"She was previously dating Santana. Santana is a lesbian. Brittany just dates a lot, boys and girls," said Rachel.

Finn let this sink in for a minute.

"I never met your friend. I arranged to meet her but then I couldn't do it," he admitted, a tiny bit shamefaced. "I sent my friend, Puck, instead."

Rachel didn't think Finn was lying, but who the hell was Quinn in a relationship with? Analysing the last conversation they'd had, Rachel realised Quinn had never actually said her beau's name or identified him.

"So, you're not dating my friend Quinn, or moving in with her, or expanding your LA business? And you didn't give her a diamond bracelet and you don't call her 'babe'?"

"Nope. I live by myself, right here. I'm a teacher. I help disadvantaged kids by giving them experiences with music and I give lessons on the side to make up my rent short fall. I love New York, and really don't want to live in LA and I definitely couldn't afford a diamond bracelet. 'Babe' would be an acceptable nickname for you but I'd just call you, 'Rach'. Its more personal than 'babe'," Finn grinned.

"Then why did you have your party uptown?" Rachel wondered.

"That was my friend, Puck's apartment. He is from LA but he invested in the apartment for when he comes to town."

"Your friend Puck owns that apartment? The same friend Puck that made sure Quinn wasn't stood up? The Puck with the stupid hair? That Puck?"

"That's the one," Finn nodded.

"And what does your friend Puck do?"

Finn hoped that she wouldn't be more impressed by Puck's resume than his own but he was also proud of his friend. "He is an entrepreneur. Started his business actually, from the ground up. I think he wants to see if he could move to New York and micromanage from here, I think."

"Holy fuck!" Rachel swore forcefully.

"What?" Finn was slightly alarmed that such a loud sound could come from such a tiny person.

"I think your friend Puck and my friend Quinn are involved in an epic love affair! And I'm so glad that you don't seem to be anything like him. And that you're not in love with Quinn because quite frankly, I have never seen such a bad side to myself before. I was jealous and petty and awful. I couldn't stop thinking about you and I really didn't want to be thinking about you. I hated you because I think I love you."

"Oh." Finn couldn't believe his good fortune. "I think I might love you too."

Rachel glanced down at the pink lace in her hand. She held in out to Finn. "I suppose you can keep these then."

He smirked adorably, grabbed the hand holding her intimate garment and pulled her towards him so their bodies were flush. "Rach, there was absolutely no way you were walking out the door with those."

Rachel laughed. She had whiplash from bubbling emotions, anger and frustration to joy. Ultimately being this close to Finn's strength made her feel safe and protected, as well as excited beyond belief.

"I would've liked to see you try and stop me," she flirted, her own grin as wide as his.

"I've no doubt you could kick my ass, but you have no idea what I was willing to do to keep them. I _really _wouldn't have given them up without an argument," he said, as he wrapped one arm around her tiny frame and lifted her up so their faces were close, "or a repeat performance."

Rachel wrapped her long legs around Finn and knotted her arms around his neck. "I'm sure that could have been arranged," she murmured while lowering her mouth to his. Need sweep through her as their mouths fused, pushing away all doubts or concerns about Quinn's rushed romance with someone who possessed such ridiculous hair or how Finn might feel about her showmance with his technical brother in law.

Finn loved having Rachel's slight weight against him. Their frantic kisses resulted in teeth clashes and swollen lips before becoming languid, his tongue stroking the inside of her mouth eliciting soft sighs. Her hands had moved up to thread through his hair and to take control of their kiss and direct it where she wanted to feel his lips the most. He inhaled the smell of her neck and drew his lips along her collarbone; his nose nudging her ear lobe causing shivers of pleasure to run through them both.

Rachel was surprised by this not unwelcome turn of events. But when Finn's hand started a journey trailing down her spine and over her butt she realised she was dressed in sweats, possibly needed a shower and most definitely had coffee breath. She had rushed things before. She had waited too long before. But with Finn she wanted everything to be perfect and if he was the man she thought he was then he'd wait.

"We need to stop," Rachel breathed against Finn's neck, smiling when he stilled immediately. He didn't lower her to the ground and she remained in his stronghold but he leant back to look at her face.

"Ok," he said. Finn felt like his body was about to burst into flames.

"I don't want to start something like this, right now," Rachel explained breathlessly. "I have all these jumbled thoughts in my head and I need to sort through them. I have to have a frank discussion with Quinn about her relationship with your friend. I am about to realise my dream and need to focus on my Funny Girl performance. And mostly I don't want to have this moment while I'm sweaty from running."

"But you do want to have this moment, right? Because you're all I've thought about for the last month." He set Rachel down, sliding her down his body, savouring what he thought would be the last time he would ever get this close to her again.

Inwardly relieved about his temporary panic, Rachel smiled. "I do want this moment with you. I want to be with you so much but I've been confused and angry and jealous and I want to start clean. I walked in here determined to catch you being a jerk but its like you were made for me and I need time."

"How much time?" Finn worried. He didn't think he could do another month of uncertainty without pissing off, neglecting nearly everyone he knew or analysing the situation repeatedly with Kurt.

Rachel moved away from Finn, her mind tending to cloud over when in close proximity to him. She paced over to the picture framed on Finn's mantelpiece and inspiration struck. "In two weeks time is a family and friends dress rehearsal for Funny Girl. You could come to that and we could have our first date after?"

"I think I can manage two weeks," Finn grimaced, and truthfully confessed, "But I'm not denying it will be the hardest thing I've ever had to wait for."

Rachel shortened the space between them and threw herself into Finn's embrace. "I promise it will be the last time you have to wait for me. You'll never get rid of me. And guess what?" she informed him cheekily, "You can have all my panties. I have a feeling when I'm with you, I wont be in need of them."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

i

Rachel was tense with anticipation as she scrubbed off the pancake thick layer of stage makeup. She left her skin clear to breathe knowing as soon as the paying performances began she would have to be slathered almost full time. Anyway, with the nerves swirling in her stomach whirling a mascara wand or eye pencil anywhere near her ocular region could be hazardous.

She'd seen him in the crowd just like he'd promised her he would be. On stage, with the knowledge that he was watching, it gifted her with a sense of confidence. His presence fueled her performance but now the impending knowledge that the rest of her life was about to begin, she felt like throwing up. It wasn't as if two weeks ago they'd made the vow to be together and she hadn't heard from him again. No, they'd been inseparable audibly through short phone calls. She relished the timbre of his voice – it was her new favourite sound (her old one was the ticket machines from Broadway, but Finn had beaten that out by a mile). Rachel hadn't wasted a second of those phone calls – each one came with one question and one answer and then a farewell that built expectation for the next time he'd call.

"_Name the most important people in your life," he'd asked, one afternoon while he was on his lunch break and Rachel was having a last wardrobe fitting. She'd replied with her brief family history and outlined her friend's good points before demanding the same from him. _

_Then he'd responded, "I'm going to be the most important person in your life soon. You'll wonder how you ever survived without me."_

She didn't admit it to him but sometimes when she saw she had a missed call from Finn she was more pleased than if she'd have had the opportunity to pick up. Because he'd was fixed inside her voicemail for her to enjoy repeatedly. And he always left her a message; sometimes it was a question or sometimes he tell her what had been doing (once he'd described exactly which body part of Rachel's was his favourite, and she was quite sure she knew what actions were taking place while he was speaking. It gave her a thrill and she had returned the favour, waiting until she knew he'd be in school and guaranteed herself an appointment with his voicemail).

Sorting out the rest of her life had been really easy given the impetus of having a clean slate to embark on an adventure with Finn. Pissed as Rachel was with Quinn for deliberately misleading her it was simple to obtain the facts from her without disclosing how she knew Finn was not the object of her affections, the giver of weighty jewelry or her travel benefactor. Rachel simply asked for his full name so she could Google him and Quinn had mistaken Rachel's suspicion for concern eliciting a torrent of guilt.

"_I am so ashamed," conceded a genuinely apologetic Quinn, "I was humiliated when Finn sent along Puck in his place. And then I fell in love with him and I was in disbelief that my goals slid off the rails so dramatically. I really didn't want to be in love with Puck and I figured I could omit details and still have you believe that I was with Finn. But truly, Finn is not who I thought he was."_

_Rachel was desperate to tell Quinn that "No, he is way better" but she allowed a scowling Quinn to reveal her truth._

"_Finn's step dad is a senator but Finn stays out of the political scene entirely. He's a public school teacher, Rachel," Quinn shuddered, "They earn pennies. Puck says Finn has no ambition to ever follow in the footsteps of his father and avoids all society and political fundraising events like the plague."_

Rachel observed that Quinn focused on Puck's status as the owner of his business, neglecting to tell her about how he started as a pool boy and possible gigolo to the older women of Finn's hometown. She also failed to mention his stupid hair and fairly uncouth manner. Despite love being completely blind and Rachel hoping that Quinn's romance didn't crash and burn she accepted the apology and moved on.

As had Santana. Her allowed period of relationship mourning had expired and she was dating several different girls; none of them knowing about the others. Santana declared it to be the only way to avoid having her heart broken and when she narrowed down her choice she'd demand fidelity.

Incidentally, Santana was still grief stricken about the departure of Brad. Rachel had sneakily relinquished temporary ownership of Brad to Brittany, as he could be a companion for Lord Tubbington, now that Brittany was gainfully employed as a travelling weather girl. Apparently, Artie and Brittany had the same philosophy when it came to relationships – as many as possible or whatever makes you happy – and even though they weren't seeing each other anymore, Artie, with his sterling director reputation had recommended Brittany and secured her the position.

Smiling to herself, Rachel couldn't believe how everything had fallen into place. She'd changed out of her costume and secured it next to the others, tidying up the small dressing room for the final rehearsal in a few days and waited impatiently for Finn to sweep her off her feet.

ii

Finn knocked on Rachel's dressing room door, almost hyperventilating with nervous energy. He wasn't frightened or even slightly unsure but two weeks had passed and he was desperate to feel her lips on his, be pressed against her body, smell the sweetness of her skin and listen to her laugh without the imaginary impediment of scratchy telephone sound.

While Rachel was sorting through her own issues, Finn had managed to regain contact with Puck and listened with reluctant interest about the sordid details of his romance with Quinn. Puck had renounced all other women but could not be relied upon to be completely respectful about his one and only.

_Puck's bawdy declaration, "You missed out, man. You practically handed her to me on a plate. A plate I've licked clean. Bet you're regretting it now, huh?" fell on deaf ears and Finn murmured tactfully, as if he was terribly disappointed. _

He'd only really run one errand of upmost importance in the last two weeks, sticking with his regular routine of teaching, drinks with Mercedes and Sam on Tuesdays and keeping Kurt company while Blaine was rehearsing. He didn't mention Rachel to any of these people, including Kurt because he wanted to keep her to himself for a little while. Their exclusion of everyone around them kept their reality on a higher plane, void from everyday life just for a little while. Although he did ask Kurt to borrow his copy of _Funny Girl_, because he wanted a preview of Rachel's part before she performed it – Kurt handed it over slightly apprehensively, because Finn had always gone to Blaine's performances but never with the enthusiasm Kurt believed he should demonstrate.

Everything was done. He knew this was the beginning of his life. That Rachel would be integrated into his and swallowed up by his existence immediately and he couldn't wait.

iii

Rachel beamed as she swung the door wide open to grant Finn entry into her shoebox-sized dressing room. She had concentrated on giving her all during the performance and completely trusted that Finn would be in the first row watching her. He'd told her during a previous conversation they'd had that week that usually, because of his height he sat at the back of theatres but he couldn't when he had the chance to watch her. He'd said he needed to be as close as possible to her, given his reluctance to let her go for the past two weeks.

"Hi," Rachel said shyly, not knowing the appropriate greeting for someone you knew was your future, someone you wanted to start over with.

"Hi," Finn replied. "I wish I could've told you to break a leg before the show tonight. But you didn't need it, you were perfect."

"I love you," Rachel blurted out, heat rising to her cheeks.

"Well, thank god for that." Finn joked, "Because, my little songbird, I'm completely in love with you too."

Finn handed over the flowers he'd specially chosen for Rachel and she accepted them graciously. He gestured to the many bouquets of red roses she'd received and said, "I know these look paltry compared to what you have here. But wait, I have a story for you. These simple flowers are called asters. Do you know where the word aster comes from, Rachel?"

Rachel nodded her head negatively, spellbound by his words. She watched him intently wanting to know what it meant, but not really caring for his comparison of his bunch to the ones her dads had sent. They were different.

"Aster comes from the Greek word, star. Which is what you are and what you're about to become. But for me, it's because stars bring light and your light has been brightening up my life. You're a beacon of light and I finally feel like I'm on my way home."

"Finn," Rachel replied, "I was better out there because of you."

It was a simple declaration but for Rachel, who had always been sure of her immense talent it was a startling admission. Finn smiled because he knew what a huge deal that was for Rachel.

"I really need you to kiss me now." Rachel couldn't wait anymore. The pretense that they were both shy and didn't want to touch each other was getting stale. Rachel palms were getting sweaty and her legs were restless because of her need to be closer to him.

Finn walked over to where she was standing, next to her dressing table and put the flowers down. Her grabbed her around her waist, holding her against him and flipped their positions so that he was leaning on the table and she was facing the mirror. His body weight pushed against the table but his upper body strength held her bound while her flexibility enabled her to straddle him in their half sitting – half standing position.

She reached up and pressed her lips to his with none of the tentativeness she felt in their previous encounter. Rachel wanted to meld Finn's mouth to hers forever, feeling startled when his tongue against hers sent immediate heat to her centre causing her to unconsciously grind her lower body into his. Finn's deep groans just fired her blood and spurred her on to change the pace and pattern of her movements.

Finn had to distract Rachel from her current mission before he embarrassed himself and broke their kiss to catch his breath. His hands were presently tangled in her hair, loving the feel of the silky strands against his palm, imagining the softness elsewhere. Trailing his fingertips down her neck he tilted her head to graze his lips on her pulse point. Encouraged by her soft cries he alternated open mouth kisses and soft sucking, pleased that Rachel concentration had broken and she'd lost her grinding rhythm to tilt her head back to offer him better access.

Rachel pushed at the back of Finn's head to control where he moved his mouth on her neck. She opened her eyes and glanced into the mirror, noticing her dilated pupils and how the colour of her eyes had deepened. Her hair was tousled from caresses and she thought this might have been the prettiest she'd ever looked. Rachel leant back further, thanking years of dance practice for giving her the agility as Finn's mouth descended to begin its exploration of her décolletage. The plunging neckline of the gown she had chosen, purely for Finn's benefit was paying dividends.

Bracing Rachel's slight body to keep hold of her, while she demonstrated her acrobatic skill had allowed Finn's mouth and fingertips to find the smooth skin of her chest, stroking in circles to slightly shift the straps of the dress and excitedly discover her braless state.

His whole hand covered the warmth of her breast, his thumb stroking the hard peak, watching her reactions, taking satisfaction from her pleasure. He repeated the action on the left, anticipating the next time they could do this to taste her dusky rose nipples. He raised her up to a sitting position because he missed her mouth.

Rachel had been distracted by Finn's ministrations and now needed to feel his broad chest under her hands. She unbuttoned his shirt, using all of her concentration because she felt like her co-ordination was lacking, her brain being thick with fog. She pulled it apart to smooth her palms along his ribcage, dragging her nails gently across the flesh, regaining her focus to please him.

Finn goal was to drive Rachel crazy, but she kept thwarting him with her desire to reciprocate. The high split in the dress allowed him to trace her inner thigh, sneak under her panties and stroke the swollen flesh, pressing his finger inside her.

"Wait," Rachel cried, and she bravely caught hold of Finn's gaze. "I want you inside me this time. I want you to come with me."

Finn stilled his hand and groaned with need, "Rachel, I want that too."

He drew his hand away and tasted her arousal. He was overcome that he could bring out this reaction in her. That she would want him.

Rachel snapped open his pants, while Finn reclaimed her neck, switching between sucking softly and nipping the skin. The different sensations drove her crazy while she tried to steady the beat of her heart and memorise all the new feelings Finn bought to the surface. He retrieved protection from his wallet and Rachel watched, mesmerized as he sheathed himself.

Rachel disengaged from their embrace so she could shimmy her panties down her legs. She held them out to Finn and said, "Here is another pair for that collection of yours."

"They're all mine now, Rach," Finn grinned lazily as he pocketed the item and scooped her up again.

Frantic kisses resumed as they, half dressed prepared to finish what they'd started so long ago. Rachel felt the incredible pressure as Finn entered her, filling her entirely, while he picked up where he had left off by touching her in tandem with his gentle thrusts. Realising she was in a better position she set a harder and faster pace, which Finn matched, gasping at her new found poise.

"Finn. More. Don't stop." Rachel was reduced to one-word sentences as she lost control and tightened around Finn, giving him permission to follow her into oblivion.

Gasping for air they both slumped into each other, silenced from exhaustion. Rachel wrapped her hands around the back of Finn's neck, stroking his shoulders. She noticed his face grimace when she touched his left shoulder blade.

"Did I hurt you?" Rachel asked, concerned. She wondered if she scratched him. She was only slightly ashamed that she never managed to even remove his shirt in her haste to get have him inside her.

"No, of course not," Finn replied sincerely, "Its just that I got a new tattoo last week."

Finn had told Rachel about his stupid tattoo when she'd asked about his most embarrassing moment. And how it was a running joke with Puck and his friends and family. She'd thought it was quite cute actually. But as he was lying in bed that night he thought about it. His songbird imprint was quite beautiful. And songbirds sang sweetly. Just like Rachel.

"What!" exclaimed Rachel, "Show me."

He peeled back his shirt to reveal a swatch of dressing, which she removed gently. He'd used the novelty gift Puck had given him – a voucher for more ink - to turn something that had been the bane of his existence for the last few years into a representation of the best present the last few of his birthdays had given him.

Underneath the brightly coloured songbird was delicate script curling around, reading 'Rachel'.

She drew back, breathless. "Tattoo's are forever, Finn!" she admonished.

"So are we Rachel," he replied confidently, "We are forever."

A/N I wrote this in a bit of a rush so it might be a bit rough. I could do an epilogue?

Thank you for reading it. Reviews and follows and favourites are amazing and almost the best part about writing!


	5. Epilogue

_**i**_

"Quinn," Rachel questioned, with a forced sweetness in her voice (because speaking to Quinn recently resembled tiptoeing through a mine field), "I'm not sure I'm actually suited to wearing orange."

Quinn marched over to Rachel, who was standing on a sturdy platform, with a seamstress pinning the hem of the dress she was wearing. She tugged at the fabric, checked the bust line and stepped back, eyeing Rachel critically.

"You look fine, Rachel," she lied less than convincingly, "Besides, it is a fall themed wedding and apricot will look fantastic against the backdrop of the setting sun."

Rachel was quite sure that the surge of hormones Quinn had pumping through her blood was affecting her usual good taste. Either that or she desired her bridesmaids to look much worse than her, which was appearing more and more likely.

Quinn's natural exuberance for achieving a life goal ahead of any of her friends was diminished by the fact that it had might have happened only because she was pregnant. Puck, who Rachel had been reintroduced to, was behaving as if he'd conquered the unconquerable. His ability to impregnate Quinn was lauded as the most significant symbol of virility in the world, according to him.

Puck's personality had left Rachel equally aghast and amused, finding his irreverent humor juvenile but also enjoyable. Rachel's biggest shock had been attempting to convince herself that this was the man Quinn loved. It all seemed impossible. She was slightly less shocked when she found out how much money he made though.

"Quinn, can we hurry this up please? We've all got other places to be, you know?" complained Santana.

"Santana, your whining is painful. You can't expect me to rush these decisions. The balance needs to be perfect," replied a frustrated Quinn.

Although Quinn and Santana fought constantly, Quinn had recruited her to be a bridesmaid based on her looks. Or at least that was what Rachel thought. Santana was flattered by the shade of the dress, so Rachel imagined that Quinn didn't mind competing with her for attention. It must've helped that Santana was a lesbian because she was in absolutely no way attracted to Puck, and her sexuality made Quinn appear if she had a diverse group of friends.

Or maybe Quinn had included her to exaggerate her own sexual experience to impress Puck because every time he passed by Santana he'd leer outrageously and snigger, "You and Quinn, hey, you and Quinn?"

Rachel had noticed that Santana never responded positively or negatively though and left that conversation well alone.

Quinn's constant teasing about how she would be a married woman soon didn't really bother Rachel and neither did the idea that Santana and Quinn had a secret past because Rachel had never told anyone about her and Finn's intimate experience on Puck's bed during the birthday party. Everyone had assumed that they had met there and struck up a romance and that's all Finn and Rachel let anybody know. Keeping their beginning private created a cozy bond, which Rachel had never had with anyone before. He was her secret keeper now. And together they'd created lots of their own.

_**ii**_

Literally the last place that Finn wanted to be was an upscale strip club. But it was Puck's bachelor party and what Finn wanted was negated by Puck's position of power.

"Lighten up, Finn," Puck scolded, "Rachel's really got your balls in a vise grip, hasn't she? Enjoy yourself. She'll never know."

But Rachel would know because Finn was texting her underneath the table.

"I just don't get it," Finn explained perplexed, "You are apparently marrying the woman of your dreams, willingly, and to celebrate that fact you want to ogle a bunch of other women?"

"No. I am marrying Quinn and because I _only_ get to ogle her for the rest of my life, tonight is the last night I'm free to do that with other women," lectured Puck.

But Finn still didn't get it. Puck was always banging on about how 'libertarian' Quinn was (and frankly, Finn would have preferred not to know) and he was pretty sure Puck wouldn't be giving up porn or cable, where naked women featured heavily.

Finn wanted to be at home with Rachel. Not just now, but always. Their tight scheduling kept them apart an awful lot and when engagements destroyed opportunities to be together Finn was easily aggravated. He thought it was funny that they'd met under similar circumstances. Or at least they would have if Finn had of agreed to be given a birthday lap dance. But he'd thought Brittany would be the one giving him that particular present and staged a protest– he may not have baulked if he'd known the gift was coming from Rachel.

His birthday party had been their first date more or less. Well, he'd tasted her on his fingers and he was sure that qualified as such. Their second face-to-face date had been after her special family and friends only dress rehearsal for Funny Girl. That time he'd swallowed her screams while she'd ridden his cock, watching their bodies in her dressing room mirror. They'd then attended the shows' after party, with Finn introducing her to his brother and him getting to know both of her dads.

It had felt scandalous knowing that just minutes earlier he had come inside her, claimed her as his own and now held her panties, scented with her need inside his jacket pocket. Watching her mingle with others and be enthusiastically introduced to people so important for her career and then catching her eye and seeing the flush rise up her neck to brighten her cheeks encouraged his attachment. And then when he stole her away from the noise of the room to press her up against the wall in the alley, murmuring dirty compliments and staring into her eyes as he got her off once again sealed his fate. They were forever.

"That's more like it," Puck commented enthusiastically, noticing the effect reminiscing had on Finn's anatomy as he'd shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Puck had assumed incorrectly it was a reaction from the selection of girls winding themselves around poles.

"I was beginning to think your brother was more excited than you and he's gay!" exclaimed Puck.

Unfortunately, what Puck didn't know was that Kurt's main motivation for being there was to find foot models for his new line of shoes. Apparently, because strippers were mostly beautiful girls and less expensive than real models, he paid for lap dances to offer the girls a job. It was entirely as creepy as it sounded and Blaine and Kurt were at odds. Blaine was entirely present however.

"I'm totally gay," he'd told Finn confidentially, "But I'm totally fascinated by breasts."

That made Finn a little wary around him. He was Rachel's love interest co-star - he decided to keep a closer eye on him.

Both Finn and Rachel had discussed their first two dates and decided they couldn't top either of them. Finn's birthday meant they'd been through the relationship trauma of a major life event and the second date had unleashed Rachel's talent onto the world. So they'd progressed their relationship and moved in together.

Rachel had felt guilty approaching Santana, Tina and Mike with her wish to move out but Tina and Mike wanted the same thing. Mike wanted privacy and to get away from Santana and Tina wanted to be with Mike without the echo that the loft's design had created. Santana was upset but she'd taken over the lease in Finn's upstairs flat because Finn and Rachel needed a bigger place. Rachel was slightly famous now and Finn was frightened for her security, wanting more than a bunch of Armenian people for protection.

Finn still visited his old apartment, finding Santana's demeanor to be caustic but well meaning, and appreciated that her love for Rachel motivated her to be protective. The downstairs family liked that Santana was quiet and how she could help them with their immigration paperwork because although she wasn't an immigration law student she understood the process and the jargon. He noticed that Aida, one of the college girls from downstairs spent a lot of time with Santana but he refused to mention it.

Rachel told him involving themselves in Santana's love affairs only ever led to trouble – like mono and singing _Happy Birthday_ in lingerie. He told her that if those things were the best things that had even happened to him and she'd tackled him to the ground, her tiny frame catching him by surprise and causing him to lose his balance.

Breaking his Rachel shaped reverie, a topless waitress thrust her silicone enhanced breasts in his face and asked him what he wanted to drink.

"He'll have a scotch," Puck scowled. "You were mooning over her again, weren't you?"

Puck had realized Finn hadn't heard a word of the advice he'd been generously bestowing.

"Yep," Finn admitted, shrugging. "I'm always thinking about her, I suppose."

"Christ. We've got all of this here. And you still want her?" Puck gesticulated to all of the bare flesh being whirled around under heated lights, "Didn't you get a look at the waitresses tits? Compared to Rachel's?"

Any other night and Puck would have been laid out on the floor for attempting to compare any of Rachel's parts to another girls. Instead Finn just shrugged again. He didn't want to ruin Puck's night and anyway, he had a flirty banter going on with Rachel via text, who'd in a striking coincidence just sent him a picture of the most perfect boobs ever – hers.

"Look. I'll give you an out. I'm a billion more times experienced than you. You tell me something sexual that shocks me or I haven't done and you can go home and fuck her to your hearts content."

Finn thought for a second. They decided to call the waitress over to be an arbitrary judge.

"You see that guy over there," he pointed to Kurt, who was hugging the tall girl he'd just received a lap dance from, "That's my brother."

Finn pointed to Blaine, who was smiling broadly while stuffing five-dollar bills in a G-string of some woman dancing. "My brother is fucking that guy there. My girlfriend kisses that guy everyday and I'm cool with it, sometimes she even pretends she's in love with him. Then she comes home and fucks me. So technically, you could say I've totally swapped spit with my brother and continue to do so on a regular basis."

Finn smiled triumphantly, while the waitress looked completely distraught at his story.

"That's fucking cheating," Puck whined. "You made that sound way dirtier than it actually is."

Jumping up excitedly, Finn grinned mischievously. "Maybe. But I prefer to think of it as taking advantage of the situation presented. That's how much I love Rachel. I will pretend that I'm into kissing my brother just to spend time with her."

_**iii**_

Puck and Quinn's wedding crept up on all of them quickly. Probably because it was only four weeks after Puck's ill fated bachelor party and three weeks after the final orange dress fitting. Quinn didn't want anyone to guess the reasons why they'd hurried into such a huge commitment, and she didn't want her beautiful wedding dress to have to hide any obvious bumps.

But Rachel understood how someone could just know. It was easy to believe in rapid-fire love once you'd been on the receiving end yourself. Rachel was glad she wasn't pregnant though because then she thought she'd always be wondering whether they were getting married because they were in love or because, despite it being a ridiculous notion (and she knew from experience it wasn't true) many people still believed parents should be married.

Finn had proposed marriage when he was released early from Puck's party. He'd swung by Tiffany's to pick out the perfect heart shaped diamond for Rachel because it was quite obvious to him, or so he told her that he had zero interest in any other women because she was perfect. She'd particularly enjoyed his story about being completely unaroused viewing all the female skin in that strip club but just _thinking _about her naked could result in embarrassing and untimely erections.

He said she had to marry him anyway because he'd inked his skin for and about her. His little songbird tattoo was a premonition. Rachel was what he was looking for before he even knew he was looking, he told her. Of course she said yes but refused to have a huge wedding like Puck and Quinn were organizing – because she didn't need to make a big deal out of being with Finn forever. It just was, like the sun setting over their favorite bench seat on the Hudson River or like his rhythm when he played the drums, constant and in tune.

At Puck and Quinn's wedding Finn had the role of best man, and Rachel was the chief bridesmaid, which worked out quite well. The night before the wedding different suites had been hired at some luxury SoHo hotel since the reception was being held in the ballroom. It was expected that Rachel spend the night with Quinn and Santana but she spent a chunk of her Fanny Brice pay check to rent a room, surprising Finn. Rachel couldn't sleep without him now, since his warmth and bulky body had been wrapped around hers for the last few months without fail.

Finn couldn't always wait up for her. Theatre went late and Finn's school mornings started early but no matter what time Blaine dropped her home, she'd creep into bed and Finn would immediately seek out her tiny body and curl himself around her, kissing her neck, and her collar bone, and he'd bury his nose in her silky hair.

Rachel and Finn had discussed all aspects of their lives in the month they had been together in all ways except for physical, when Rachel was becoming _Fanny Brice_. Children, religion, parents, future ambitions, everything had been analyzed because it was obvious to both of them that their relationship was not only an obsession, but a dream for the future. It didn't take a long time to convince any of their friends or family that they were forever anyway. Even Rachel's dads realized the strong connection and didn't object to the rushed nature of their action.

They were always thinking similarly too. Like at Puck and Quinn's engagement party, which was held at his awful uptown apartment complete with new nude artwork, that Rachel knew actually was Quinn's form due to a mole positioned on her left thigh, they found themselves drawn back to Puck's bedroom with the ceiling mirror. This time they hadn't even made it to Puck's huge bed. But they both earned themselves some uncomfortable carpet burn in sensitive spots.

"Symbiotic sexual chemistry," Finn laughed and they adopted the abbreviation _'SSC'_ as a phrase as a signal when they wanted to excuse themselves to have passionate slightly exhibitionist sex somewhere.

The short wedding ceremony didn't seem to be worth the four am start Quinn forced them to endure to serve her breakfast and pamper her while she had her hair and nails done to complement the deep tan she had sprayed on in the previous week. Santana had shouldered the burden of traipsing around after Quinn the week before the wedding while she had scary beauty treatments applied to every visible and some not so visible parts of her body. It wasn't Rachel's fault she was working but actually thought that it was a decent payback for the weeks Rachel became the embodiment of a slave, counselor and cat servant.

Rachel was surprised by Puck tearing up during the vows, which was very romantic and she hoped desperately that he was crying because he loved Quinn so much, not because he was seeing his future opportunities with various other women circling the drain. Quinn remained poised and ethereal, as she was completely suited to the cream gown she wore, matched by her glow caused by pregnancy and not bronzer like most would suspect.

After it was done Santana stalked off, "I need a drink!" she muttered half under her breath and a wrathful glare was directed her way from the bride.

Finn swept Rachel into his arms, "How long until _SSC_?" he murmured, using their now well established and unfortunately, public code. They couldn't expect their friends not to catch on given their expressiveness.

"Not for a while, I'm afraid," Rachel lamented. "We have to sign the register and witness their marriage and get the pictures done and dance and eat and mingle with Quinn's snobbish relatives."

"Great," Finn said sarcastically.

The celebrant gathered Puck, Quinn, Rachel and Finn around the register with the photographer to take the shots of the official documents being signed. Rachel had been practicing this a lot – because she was kind of famous but also because she'd just acquired a new signature.

_Rachel Hudson-Berry _

"Rachel," Quinn shrieked, "This is a formal document. You can't make up your signature or our marriage won't be real!"

"That is my real signature," Rachel smiled into Finn's eyes. "Finn and I are married. We eloped when my Dad's were in town for my off-Broadway debut a week ago. Santana was there."

Quinn was speechless with inexpressible rage. After all, people were allowed to get married. It was a joyful thing.

"You knock Rachel up to, dude," Puck offered Finn a high five.

"Nope," Finn beamed, "I just can't live without my little songbird."

A/N Thanks for reading! I really appreciate everything people say about my writing.

And who knew italics were so hated!?


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